


Afterlife

by ladyxa



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Child Death, Crime Scenes, Dark, Dark Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hate to Love, M/M, Murder Husbands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pedophilia, Slow Burn, but the hate is kinda one sided lol, from will obviously, like REALLY dark, the murders of the children are described in detail though, the pedophelia/child abuse isn't described in detail but they play a big role in the story, yeah this killer is fucked up lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-06-09 02:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 69,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15257238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxa/pseuds/ladyxa
Summary: With a child killer walking free, nightmares haunting the very little sleep he gets, and no leads or clues presenting themselves, Will is feeling happier than he has in a very long time.He's made the decision to kill himself.Unfortunately for him, his attempt is thwarted by a man he's never met before in his life, in a very strange way.Even more unfortunate, the man appears in Jack Crawford's office two weeks later, having been invited to help with the gruesome case, as Jack introduces him as Dr. Hannibal Lecter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone i'm back!! school's done, i've passed my exams and now i can do jack shit for the next two months <3 so i've decided to use the time to start writing again.  
> now, i need to warn y'all, this is dark. like, seriously dark, even in the first chapter. as the summary says, this is about children being murdered, so if you can't handle that i advise you to step away. the murders are also described, in relative detail, so again, if you can't handle it it's better not to read. in fact - if ANY kind of abuse against children is unbearable to you please don't read this. there's also a (nearly) suicide attempt which isn't explicit and doesn't involve anything gory.
> 
> that being said, for the people who stay to read, i hope you enjoy and let me know what you think <3

**Chapter 1**

Will felt happier than he had in a very, very long time. For the first time in as long as he could remember he couldn’t stop smiling, a cheerful bounce in his step as he walked down the street. He was looking forward to tonight; he was about to dine at the most expensive restaurant he knew, order their most expensive bottle of wine and consume their most expensive meal. Naturally, normally he would never do anything like this. He wouldn’t be spending a shit ton of money on food, he wouldn’t eat out by himself and, most of all, he wouldn’t be this happy. Of course, there was a reason for all this.

Tonight was the night he was going to kill himself.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

_Two months prior_

Jack looked grim. Jack usually looked grim, but this time he looked _grim_. It made Will nervous.

“All right,” Jack said. “All right.”

It seemed like Jack was mentally preparing himself to say what he wanted to say. It unnerved Will even more. This was bad.

“Jack?” Will said after another long moment of silence.

Jack took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah. Sorry, Will, this one’s… heavy.”

Will’s nails dug into his palms, and he steeled himself. “Explain.”

“There’s a killer.”

“I assumed as much.”

“I’m gonna show you some pictures, Will. I need you to brace yourself,” Jack said darkly.

Will gave a jerky nod, his hands shaking as Jack reached down into his desk drawer and pulled out photographs. He hesitated a moment before laying them on the desk, spreading them out and turning them so they faced Will. Then he leaned back, barely glancing at the pictures as he observed Will, his expression somber.

Will took a breath before looking down at the pictures.

Whatever he’d thought he was prepared for, it wasn’t this.

He felt bile rise up to his throat and he swallowed harshly, multiple times, his hands shaking violently as he adjusted his glasses.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Jack gave a curt nod. “…there were traces of semen.”

Will stood up roughly, paced around the room, trying to settle his turning stomach.

“Any leads?” he bit out eventually.

Jack shook his head slowly. “None.”

“Great,” Will said, his voice desperate.

And so he was forced to crawl into the head of someone who had raped, tortured and murdered a five year old girl.

Looking back, he could call that moment the beginning of his downfall.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

_A month prior_

“I’m not doing it. I don’t care what you say or do. There is absolutely no way.”

In Jack’s office, the mood wasn’t any better than it had been a month ago.

“Will, I get that this is difficult. Hell, do you think I want to go?” Jack said, tired eyes staring at Will.

“No. But we’re not the same person, Jack. You have no idea what this will do to me.”

“Will, I get it, but it’s been a month and there’s another body. I know your… disorder works better when you’re seeing it, properly seeing it, not seeing pictures of it.” He leaned forward. “You refusing to see the crime scene could mean this killer walks free for even longer.”

“Don’t try and guilt trip me,” Will snarled.

“I’m not, Will, I’m… I’m desperate. We’re all desperate. Hell, I’ve got four grieving parents demanding justice. You always visit crime scenes.”

“No crime scene has been like this,” Will bit out.

“I know. And that’s why I need you even more,” Jack said solemnly.

Will was quiet for a while, before standing up. “Send me the pictures when you’ve got them,” he said shortly, and with that he left.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

_A week prior_

The last victim, though, that had been the breaking point. A little three-year-old boy, mutilated beyond recognition and strung up in the living room, various organs and parts of his body dangling from the ceiling around him. His mother had passed out when she’d seen him, and hadn’t spoken a word since waking up. His father wasn’t any better.

Jack had finally managed to convince Will to visit the crime scene. Upon entering the room, he had to abruptly leave again to empty out the contents of his stomach in the front yard. He’d normally be embarrassed, but no one around him was any better. He didn’t think he’d seen Beverly smile since this had started, and Zeller and Price were uncharacteristically quiet; Zeller’s face a pale grey and Price’s face seeming to have aged years.

He went back into the room, and Jack’s hand found his shoulder. He shrugged it off, slowly walking towards the horrific tableau. He faintly heard Jack telling everyone to leave the room, and Will closed his eyes, the sick feeling still not having left him.

Behind his eyelids, behind the pendulum, he saw a happy little boy, learning about life and the world around him every day, surrounded by people who loved him. Innocence incarnate.

And then he saw something that despised that innocence, that wanted nothing more than to destroy it, desecrate it in every way possible and leave it to rot. Pure, unadulterated hate. He saw something that had lost that innocence a long, long time ago, or perhaps had never even had it. The hate flooding into him was black, sticky and all-consuming.

After that moment, the nightmares properly started.

Of course, nightmares were pretty much a constant in his life, having increased ever since this case began. But after being actually confronted with it, after letting his empathy work… it was nothing like he’d ever experienced before. He used to rely on about four hours of sleep a night, now he was lucky if he got one.

This wasn’t a life anymore. Corpses of little children plagued his mind, day and night. They were no closer to finding the murderer than they were two months ago.

He couldn’t keep doing this. He could feel himself fading away, not living anymore but just… existing. Surviving. Getting through each minute of each day. There was a decision to make, and one side offered freedom but guilt, the other offering… more of what was happening now, for an indefinite time.

Unfortunately, the decision was easier than it should have been.

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_The present_

“Thank you,” Will smiled at the waiter, who gave the politest nod Will had ever seen. It would have made him laugh under different circumstances.

He picked up his glass of wine, inhaling deeply before taking a sip. It was the best wine he’d ever had, of course, and he wondered idly if he had enough room for dessert. He was starting to feel a bit tipsy, having worked his way through half the bottle during his meal. By the time he had finished his dessert and the rest of the bottle, he was more than tipsy, which he was glad for. He didn’t want to be sober on his last night.

He paid, leaving a generous tip on the enormous bill – reminding himself it didn’t matter, he wouldn’t need money where he was going. As he made his way to the door, he felt his elbow brush something, choosing to ignore it and continue walking. Before he could, though, a hand grasped his sleeve. He looked down to see a man smiling at him pleasantly.

“Excuse me,” the man said. He had a funny accent, something Will would maybe have tried to figure out if he had been sober and not on his way to kill himself.

“Yeah?” Will said, one eyebrow raised.

“You knocked over my drink,” the man said, still smiling, glancing pointedly at the glass of red wine spilled over the table.

“Oh.” Will rubbed the back of his head, thinking how he really didn’t have the time nor patience for this. “Uh, sorry. Here, the next one’s on me.” He dug some money from his pocket, tossing it onto the table and left the restaurant without a backwards glance.

As he walked down the dark streets, having left his car at the restaurant, he went through his checklist. He had said goodbye to his dogs – a stab of pain went through his heart at the thought – and he knew his neighbour, Mrs. Stanley, would take them in. She’d looked after them so often while he’d been away, he knew she would give them a good home. There was a letter lying on the table in his living room, short but clear. He thought of anyone who meant anything to him, and their last interactions together. Since he’d decided to do this a week ago, he’d had time to say goodbye in his own way, without letting them actually know he was saying goodbye. Jack. Beverly. Alana. Even Zeller and Price. And that was the end of one very short list of people he cared about. It made it easier.

He leaned over the bridge railing, having reached his destination. Slowly he climbed on top of it, the narrow edge digging into his backside as he sat down. His hands held on tightly as he stared down into the choppy, murky water below him, feet dangling. He’d thought of doing this another way – a gun to the head would have been easy and quick – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it in his own home, and he didn’t want to do it in the street for obvious reasons. Pills would have been a possibility, too, but he didn’t want to deal with the pain. No, throwing himself into ice cold water in the middle of winter seemed the best idea. He would be very cold, and then he would be very warm until darkness took over.

His hands clenched the railing, and he started counting down. _Ten, nine, eight, seven, six_ –

“Excuse me.”

Will jerked so hard he fell backwards onto the ground before quickly jumping up and turning to see who had spoken.

It was dark, though, and whoever it was, was standing just out of reach of the faint streetlights.

“What?” Will barked into the darkness, shame and frustration filling him.

The owner of the voice stepped forward into the soft light. Will squinted before scoffing and leaning back against the railing.

“You’re the guy from the restaurant.”

The man inclined his head. “I am.”

“Did you follow me here or something?”

The man tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “May I ask what you’re doing?”

Will snorted. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You are going to commit suicide.”

“Excellent.”

“Why?” the man sounded curious, not concerned.

Will took a breath. “Look, either call the cops or leave. I don’t have the patience for this.”

“I will leave when you tell me why you’re going to kill yourself.” The man stepped forward even more, his hands clasped behind his back. He was smartly dressed, Will saw now. Even with the coat on, he could see this man took great care in looking respectable.

Will glared at him. “It’s none of your business.”

The man tilted his head again, a small smile forming. “You are about to die. What does it matter?”

Will narrowed his eyes. “You don’t really seem to care.” He didn’t mean it in an accusatory way, it was more of an observation.

The man gave a graceful shrug. “We don’t know each other. All I know of you is that you knocked over my drink and were quite rude about it, and that you are going to commit suicide.”

Will looked around, saw that the area was completely deserted. “And all I know of you is that you won’t leave a guy to kill himself in peace.”

The man actually laughed, and Will’s eyes narrowed even further.

“You’re right, I’m sorry for keeping you. Please, continue as you were,” the man then said, extending his hand in a ‘go forth’ gesture.

“Um… you’re not going to leave?” Will asked after a moment of confused silence.

“Do you mind?” the man asked.

Will frowned. “Yes?”

“Why? Would my being here stop you from doing what you want to do? If you were serious about this, you wouldn’t care,” the man said, sounding amused.

Will was torn between punching this guy in the face and continuing with his business. He decided on the latter.

“You’re right. Bye,” he snapped, climbing back onto the ledge.

He started the count down again. _Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three_ –

“One moment.”

Will grunted in frustration and turned to see the man had approached him even more, standing almost right behind him. The man moved to stand next to him, arms leaning on the railing as he looked down at the water.

“What?” Will snapped.

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t ask for your name before you died. The current is awfully strong, isn’t it?” The man added the last part as an afterthought as he gazed down.

Will was quiet for a long time. “Ah, what the hell. It’s Will.”

“My name –”

“No,” Will interrupted him. “Don’t tell me your name.”

“As you wish.”

They both stared down at the water in silence for a while.

“There are little children being murdered, and I can’t stop it,” Will then said. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I don’t feel alive. And since I’m not able to help in any way, this won’t matter.” He didn’t have to clarify the ‘this’ he was referring to. “I can see how the killer thinks. And it’s poison. It’s pure poison. If I keep putting myself in his place, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”

“You can see how the killer thinks?”

Will heaved a big sigh. “I can see how anyone thinks. It’s what makes me so good at my job.”

The man was quiet for a moment, eyes not leaving the water. “I see,” he then said. “Thank you.”

“All right. I’m… going to go now.”

Again. _Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One –_

A firm hand on his shoulder. He looked at the man, barely hanging off the railing, the only thing keeping him from falling the hand on his shoulder. He was stronger than he looked.

They stared at each other for a while in silence, before the man seemed to make a decision. Before he knew it, he was being pulled back onto the ground. The man’s hand was still on his shoulder.

“What…?” Will managed, still staring at him, completely bewildered.

“You are different from how I thought you were. It’s rather intriguing,” the man then said thoughtfully.

Will blinked. “O…kay?”

The man pursed his lips, seemingly deep in thought. “What’s the one thing you desire, right at this moment?”

“For you to let go of my shoulder.”

A smile twitched at the man’s lips, and he let go. “And now?”

“And now…” Will took a deep breath. “Peace.”

In his mind, in his life, in his soul. He nodded to himself. “Peace.”

“And you think that by killing yourself you will achieve that.”

Will gave a curt nod, although he wasn’t so sure anymore. He grunted, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I made this decision a week ago. I’ve made up my mind. Just… move on and let me do what I need to do, okay?”

“I don’t believe you,” the man then said simply.

Will blinked. “What?”

“I don’t believe you,” the man repeated. “You know this isn’t the way. The only way for you to achieve peace is to find this killer. You know this. What you are planning on doing is the easy way out. I think you are better than that.”

“You don’t even know me,” Will spluttered.

“No. But I know you don’t want to kill yourself. What you want is for your problems to be solved. And the only way to solve those problems is to continue with life. Nothing is eternal.”

Will finally felt the long overdue tears at his eyes, and he turned away, blinking furiously. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “I’m done.”

“Aren’t you curious?” Will turned to the man to see him smiling at him. “Aren’t you curious about the endless experiences of life? About new things to come, new art to see, new music to hear? New people to meet?”

Will stared at him, not knowing what to say.

“I, myself, am endlessly curious. Endlessly excited to see what life has to offer,” the man continued.

Will shook his head, still not saying anything.

The man sighed quietly, his dark eyes twinkling. “I am going home now. I won’t do you the indignity of calling the police, or of physically holding you down. You are free to do what you want. But whatever decision you make – I implore you to consider the unpredictability of life. Have a good night, Will.”

With that, the man turned and walked away from him, leaving Will to stare at his silhouette until he disappeared into the night.

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Will lay on the floor in his home in Wolf Trap. Half of him regretted not tossing himself off that bridge, the other half was happy he didn’t. What confused him most was the man. Never mind his strange behaviour about Will trying to kill himself, it was what he said to _stop_ him from trying to kill himself that got to him. Not that it gets better, not that life is beautiful. But to be curious. It was a refreshing thing to hear. What was also refreshing was that the man didn’t actually try and stop him, he’d walked away like he said. Leaving Will to decide his own fate.

Will shook his head, running his hands over his face. What a frustrating person. He had a certain air of arrogance about him, and his tone had barely revealed anything but indifference or amusement. Or, of course, curiosity. And yet, whatever he had done, it had worked.

Will figured if it had been anyone else speaking to him, he would have thrown himself over that bridge. That was a strange thing to realise. He shook his head again.

Whatever. He would just wake up tomorrow, go to Quantico, and pretend like none of this had ever happened. No one knew, and no one had to know. He would continue… as best as he could. After all, it would be stupid not to now.

Before he went to sleep in his bed, with his dogs surrounding him – they usually weren’t allowed on the bed but tonight he made an exception – he thought of the man, with his aloof, amused attitude and strange words. And he was thankful that he would never have to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sike


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone for the kudos & comments & bookmarks! hope yall enjoy <3

**Chapter 2**

Waking up was strange. Showering was strange. Driving to work was strange.

He couldn’t stop thinking that this would all have been over if he had gone through with last night.

It continued feeling strange for about a week or so, feeling like he was living in a daze, like he actually was dead and this was all some strange dream of the afterlife. It felt so unreal to be talking to people, looking them in the eyes and having a conversation with them, without them having an inkling of what he had almost done.

To be sitting in Jack’s office, to be down in the lab with Beverly and Price and Zeller. To be in his classroom, countless eyes staring at him as he gave his lectures. By the end of the week, he had decided that something had definitely changed within him after that night. Something he didn’t think could be repaired again. It was almost enough to convince him to try again, and succeed this time.

_Aren’t you curious?_

By the end of the second week, there hadn’t been another body. It gave little relief though, since everyone knew the next one was coming and the clock was ticking.

“Could it be the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Will actually laughed out loud at that. Jack glared at him from behind his desk.

“Oh, come on, Jack. You know it isn’t,” Will said incredulously after Jack stayed silent.

“How? How can you know for sure? He hasn’t killed in a while,” Jack said, crossing his arms.

Will rolled his eyes. “First of all, the Ripper always disappears off the radar for an indefinite amount of time after his murders. Secondly, the Ripper has never killed a child. Ever. And never will.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Will took a breath. “The Ripper has a moral code, however strange that may sound. He kills people he sees as animals. People who, in his eyes, are a nuisance and who make the world a better place when they’re dead. Children are innocent. Children are helpless. It would be below him to kill them.”

“You seem awful sure about this,” Jack said with raised eyebrows.

“I am,” Will said shortly.

“All right then. I trust you,” Jack then said. “But…”

Will’s head jerked up. “But?” he said sharply.

Jack shook his head. “Let me rephrase that before I even say it. I’ve decided to bring in a psychiatrist to consult on the case.”

Will frowned. “You mean Alana?”

Jack shook his head. “No. I’ve asked, but she’s made it very clear she doesn’t want to work this case.”

“Understandable,” Will muttered.

“And since I think a psychiatrist would be helpful, to put it lightly – I’ve contacted an old acquaintance of mine. He was more than willing to help, and he’s very good at what he does. One of the best, in fact. Dr. Hannibal Lecter. You might have heard of him.”

Will shrugged. “Nope.”

Jack nodded. “Well, in any case, you’ll be meeting him tomorrow.”

Will raised an eyebrow as he stood up. “I hope he’s as good as you say he is.”

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“Coffee?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to meet –”

Will stopped talking when Beverly handed him a cup of coffee. “Got you one to go,” she said with a wink.

Will gave a faint smile. “Thanks, Beverly. I’d like to stay and talk but I’m already late –”

“I know. Meeting the psychiatrist that’s going to help with the case. Catch me at lunch?”

Will nodded and they parted ways, both walking briskly to where they needed to be. He stood before the closed door of Jack’s office, taking a sip of coffee which burned his tongue. Swearing under his breath, he knocked and entered when Jack told him to come in.

There was a man sitting at the desk with his back to Will, and he felt faint alarms go off in his head, not immediately realising why.

“Ah, Will. Nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Jack said, somewhat sourly.

“Yeah, sorry. I got stuck in traffic,” Will said, his eyes not leaving the back of the man’s head.

“Will Graham, meet Dr. Hannibal Lecter,” Jack then said, and the man stood and turned around.

Will froze, and he felt his heart sink to the ground. This could not be happening.

“Nice to meet you,” the man from the night at the bridge said with a bright smile and extended hand.

Will dared a quick glance at Jack, who was starting to raise an eyebrow at his not shaking Dr. Lecter’s hand. It didn’t seem like he knew anything. Will slowly raised his hand and shook, running his eyes over Dr. Lecter’s face quickly. If the latter was surprised to see him, he hid it well.

“And you,” Will finally managed.

It was unmistakable. Even though it had been a dark night, the sharp cheekbones and dark eyes stuck out in his memory. Even without that, his accent, his voice – _aren’t you curious?_ – Will would have recognised anywhere.

They both sat down, and Will subtly moved his chair farther away from Dr. Lecter. Judging by the tiny smile hinting at the corner of his mouth, he had noticed regardless.

This couldn’t be right. The man who had spoken to him that night had been unconcerned for his safety, was even prepared to watch as Will threw himself off the bridge. What kind of psychiatrist was that? He decided to tell Jack as soon as Lecter was gone, then mentally slapped himself. Telling Jack would mean having to tell him about that night, and that was absolutely not going to happen. Jack would have him carted off to a psychiatric hospital before he could even blink.

“Will, are you listening?” Jack said sharply, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Will was quiet for a moment, his heart hammering. “No, sorry.”

Jack sent him a questioning look before repeating himself. “I said, Dr. Lecter is going to be helping us from now on – so whenever you come up here, you can expect him to be there as well. I want you to share anything you have with him, and of course I’ll do the same.”

Will gave a curt nod.

“Again, Dr. Lecter, thank you for deciding to come and consult with us. This case is tough even for the most experienced here,” Jack then said, nodding at Lecter.

The latter gave him a gracious nod back. “Of course. I agree, this is a very difficult case for anyone involved. Which makes me want to help all the more. Whoever is doing this needs to be stopped, fast, and I hope to be able to help to achieve that.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I expect you two will be working together a lot, since you’re both one of the best of what you do.”

“I’m sorry, but what is it exactly that you do, Will? Jack has explained it, but I’m afraid I’m still a tad unclear on the specifics,” Dr. Lecter then said, turning to Will with polite curiosity.

Will cleared his throat, twice, before answering. “I imagine whatever Jack’s told you is no more than I can tell you. I have an empathy disorder that helps me profile serial killers,” he said gruffly.

“I see. And when you say empathy disorder, you mean…?”

“Empathy disorder,” Will said coldly.

“Will can step into the minds of killers. See what moves them, what motivates them and how they think,” Jack said hastily, shooting a glare Will’s way.

“I can step into the mind of anyone. Not just serial killers,” Will muttered.

“How fascinating,” Dr. Lecter said, gazing at Will.

Will cringed, crossing his arms and looking towards the ceiling.

“Well, I suggest we get to it immediately. Dr. Lecter, would you like some coffee before we get started?” Jack said, standing up.

“Hannibal, please. And yes, thank you,” Dr. Lecter replied with a smile.

Will’s eyes followed Jack across the room, silently begging him not to leave him alone with Dr. Lecter as his heart hammered in his throat. Before he left the room, Jack turned to Will and mouthed ‘what the hell?’ with a pointed glare.

It was silent for a few moments before Dr. Lecter turned to him with a smirk. “Hello again.”

“Don’t,” Will hissed. “What – what are you even doing here?”

Dr. Lecter did a good job at looking bewildered. “Jack Crawford invited me.”

“Yeah, I – Christ. How are you a psychiatrist? The things you said that… that night definitely wasn’t psychiatrist talk,” Will snapped.

Dr. Lecter gave a graceful shrug. “I think it’s safe to assume neither of us was expecting to run into the other again.”

“The person that spoke to me that night isn’t the same person sitting in this office,” Will said darkly.

Dr. Lecter gave a small laugh. “Of course it is. Who else would it be, Will?”

Will winced at hearing his name from Dr. Lecter’s mouth. “I don’t know. But let me make this clear. I don’t trust you. And I’m going to tell Jack –”

“As soon as you figure out a way to exclude the specifics of your actions,” Dr. Lecter finished for him. He smiled pleasantly and leaned forward. “I don’t know what exactly you want to tell him about me, but I wish you good luck with that.” He sounded like he meant it.

Will stared at him, his teeth gritted. Second meeting, and the second time he wanted to punch him.

“All right gentlemen, let’s get started,” Jack said, entering the room again with two steaming cups of coffee.

Will sipped at his own. It had cooled considerably, and he tried to focus on the bitter taste on his tongue rather than the man sitting next to him. Jack took a breath, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out photographs.

“Okay. Hannah Thomson, died of… blood loss. Found in the swing set of her backyard, cut neatly in half and positioned so that the two halves were sitting on each swing…”

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At the end of the day, when he was clearing up the papers and his laptop from his desk in the classroom, there was a knocking at the door.

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly, not bothering to look up. He expected some student to have questions. They always did.

When it remained quiet, however, he frowned and looked up. Dr. Lecter was staring up at the screen still showing the last slide from the presentation on his laptop.

“What are you doing here?” Will snapped.

Dr. Lecter had his hands clasped behind his back, and he tilted his head at the screen behind Will. “Isn’t this the Chesapeake Ripper’s last victim?”

Will sighed and snapped his laptop shut, causing the screen, and the room, to dissolve into darkness. The only light came from the open door, the hallway beyond giving a faint glow to the classroom.

“I’m going home,” Will said coldly, stuffing what was left into his bag and making his way for the door.

“You know,” Dr. Lecter said, causing Will to pause despite himself, “There really is no need for this hostility. We are to work together, after all. Why not behave like adults and have a proper conversation?”

“Yeah, no thanks. I feel no need whatsoever to have a ‘proper conversation’ with you,” Will replied, still facing the door.

“God forbid we become friendly,” Dr. Lecter then said, a smile in his voice.

“Look.” Will turned around, and the way the faint light from the hallway illuminated Dr. Lecter’s features reminded him eerily of that night. He took a breath before continuing. “To be perfectly honest, the last thing I want to do is become friendly with you. I don’t want to work with you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you, really.”

“All this because of my brief glimpse of your vulnerability. Tut tut, Will. I’m a psychiatrist, I see enough vulnerability every day, and a lot more than what you showed me two weeks ago. There really is no need to be ashamed.”

The amused tone, completely unaffected by what Will was saying, only caused him to become more infuriated.

“There’s no way in hell I’m working with you,” Will hissed, turning away. “I don’t care what Jack says. Don’t speak to me again.”

“Until tomorrow, Will,” Dr. Lecter called after him cheerfully, and Will slammed the door shut behind him, knowing that he had engulfed Dr. Lecter in complete darkness and feeling slightly better for it.

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The only thing the children had in common was the fact that they had all been placed back home after the murder. They were kidnapped, tortured and killed wherever the killer had taken them, and then the killer took his time to take them back home and set up some kind of horrific tableau with their bodies.

Will couldn’t see any other kind of connection. So far, two of the children had been Caucasian and one had been African American, so race didn’t play a part. The first child was five, the second seven, and the last three years old. So age wasn’t a factor either. At least, up until the age of 12, he assumed. And there had been two girls and one boy. Gender was out as well, then.

Will shoved his laptop across the table, running his hands through his hair and groaning. The killer hadn’t left any sort of clue or lead, besides the semen which hadn’t resulted in anything.

His stomach turned at the reminder, and he swallowed harshly, trying to stay objective. So they were all placed back home. So far in a back yard, bedroom and living room. And they were all children. Their parents weren’t connected in any way either; all having gone to different colleges and high schools, grown up in different states.

That was it. He had nothing else. Will grunted in frustration and glanced at the clock. Half past twelve. He should be getting to bed soon, anyway.

The thought made him let out a bitter chuckle.

As he lay awake in bed later on, despite his best efforts, his mind drifted to Hannibal Lecter. He could not believe how much fate hated him. Again, he pondered whether he should just tell Jack about what had happened between them. But again, he point-blank refused to even consider explaining the context. And he knew now that Dr. Lecter wouldn’t say anything to Jack, either. Not because he was worried about anything, Will knew that much. He didn’t know what the reason was, though.

Well. All he could do was stay true to his words and try to avoid him as much as possible. Eventually Dr. Lecter would get tired of the animosity and back off. Hopefully.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Coffee, Will?”

Will stiffened as he heard footsteps behind him. He was about to turn to Dr. Lecter and refuse when he saw that the latter was holding out a cup to him, another cup in his hand. He considered turning it away, just to be petty, but grit his teeth and took it.

“Thanks.”

“Pleasure,” Dr. Lecter replied, smiling widely.

They made their way to Jack’s office in silence, Will clearly uncomfortable and Dr. Lecter not having a care in the world.

“How did you sleep, Will?” Dr. Lecter then asked.

Will paused, turning to him slightly. “What.”

“I remember you mentioning you managed an hour of sleep at night. Is that still the case?”

Will only just stopped himself from squeezing his coffee cup so hard it splattered everywhere. “Don’t talk about that,” he hissed before quickly striding to Jack’s office and walking in without knocking, not giving Dr. Lecter the chance to reply.

“Thanks for knocking,” Jack said, not having the energy to sound annoyed.

“Any news?” Will asked, pointedly ignoring Dr. Lecter entering the room and standing beside him.

Jack shook his head glumly. “No.”

Will turned back to the door. “Short day, then.”

“Actually –” Jack said before Will could leave. “I want you to go down to the lab. This is only if you agree completely, of course, Hannibal, but I’d like you to have a look at the bodies. Maybe together you can see something that you missed before, Will. And you can introduce Hannibal to the team, as well.”

Will was ready to rip out his hair. Dr. Lecter – _Hannibal_ , as Jack was calling him, gave a nod. “I think it would be a good idea.” Then, to Will, “Shall we?”

Will started walking wordlessly, not looking back to see if Hannibal was following him. No. Not Hannibal. Dr. Lecter.

“Hey, Will,” Beverly greeted him, eyeing Dr. Lecter curiously.

He muttered hellos to her and Price and Zeller. “This is Dr. Lecter. He's the psychiatrist working with… us,” he then said sourly.

“Pleasure,” Dr. Lecter said after everyone had introduced themselves.

“So, what do you need?” Price asked.

“We’re here to look at the bodies. See if there’s anything we’ve missed,” Will replied.

Price scoffed while leading them to the three tables. “There’s nothing we’ve missed, believe me.”

“We’ve been looking at these bodies for so long, I couldn’t get them out of my mind if I tried,” Zeller added grimly.

Will shook his head. “I believe you.” He didn’t know how to explain himself without freaking them out. He needed to see whether _he_ had missed anything. As the killer.

Luckily, Beverly caught on. “C’mon guys, let’s give them some room.”

Will took a deep breath, standing over what was left of the body of the latest victim.

“How do you see this killer?” came a quiet voice beside his ear, and he jumped, having forgotten about Dr. Lecter’s presence.

“Jesus,” Will muttered, stepping aside. “Could you not stand so close to me?”

Dr. Lecter raised an eyebrow but stayed where he was now that they were further apart. Will took another breath, trying to zone Dr. Lecter out. He closed his eyes.

_I am filled with a deep, insidious hatred. This child is the embodiment of everything I despise, and deserves to be treated that way. Hurting him is not enough. I need to show him, show everyone he loves, how much I hate him. I decorate the room with him –_

Will swallowed harshly, hand on his stomach. He shook his head to himself. Something was wrong. Something was missing. He couldn’t see it.

“Will?” Dr. Lecter said quietly.

Will moved back a few paces, taking deep breaths. They stayed in silence for a few moments.

“I could help with what you’re feeling, Will,” Dr. Lecter then said. “I’m a psychiatrist, after all.”

“Nope,” Will said shortly.

Dr. Lecter gave a nod, approaching another table. “It may seem as though there is no traceable motive, but there is.”

Will looked up, startled. “How do you know that?”

“The sexual violation of the children, the torture and the way they were displayed. No person would do this without motive. There is too much thought, too much effort and planning.”

“There are tons of people who rape, torture and kill without motive,” Will said quietly.

“That is true. But these are children. Children who were kidnapped, killed somewhere other from their home and then placed back into their home, displayed gruesomely. That has a great amount of risk and takes a lot of calculation, never mind a very altered… sense of morality.”

“He’s intelligent. Careful.”

“And it makes him very unlikely to not have a motive. I’d say nearly impossible.”

“I agree,” Will murmured reluctantly.

“I am glad there is something we agree on,” Dr. Lecter said. Will could detect the faint amusement in his voice, and he turned away.

Find the motive, find the answers. If only it could be as simple as it sounded. He left the lab wordlessly, leaving Dr. Lecter to stand among the bodies.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! thank you for the feedback, as always <3 i'm away on holiday now and really struggling to find the time to write, so if the next one is a bit later i apologise in advance. enjoy!!

**Chapter 3**

“Will, can I speak to you for a second?”

Will looked up from his laptop, not having heard Jack walk into the empty classroom. “Yeah?”

“Why are you being such a dick to Dr. Lecter?”

Will blinked at him. “What?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You think I haven’t noticed? Now I know you don’t particularly like meeting new people, especially not here or in this context, but you’re being extremely hostile to Lecter, even by your accounts. What’s going on?”

Will frowned and crossed his arms. “Nothing.”

Jack raised the other eyebrow. “Nothing?”

Will sniffed. “Nothing.”

Jack sighed. “Will…”

“Why, has he said anything?” Will asked sharply.

“No, he hasn’t said anything. He’s only said good things about you. Which makes your hostility even weirder.”

Will cringed. “Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Jack was quiet for a moment, looking at him as if he was trying to force the truth out of him by sheer willpower. “All right, then,” he then said, turning away. “Play nice, Will,” he called behind him.

Will muttered something unintelligible, focusing on his laptop again. He had another lecture in an hour, and he was looking through the pictures of the Chesapeake Ripper’s victims. That was a case that would never seem to leave him; the Ripper drifted in and out of his life as he pleased, never quite leaving the back of his mind.

The Ripper had been put on the backburner now with this new killer, but Will was positive he would return. He always did.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Freddie Lounds is calling him the Cradle Snatcher,” Beverly said with a sneer, turning her laptop towards him.

Will scowled. “Tasteless.”

“Bet she thinks she’s being real clever too, with the double meaning. Disgusting.” Beverly snapped the laptop shut, crossing her arms and leaning back.

“Anything for a little bit of attention,” Will muttered.

“And money,” Beverly added.

Will nodded. “Especially that.”

“I really hope that doesn’t become his official name,” Zeller said, walking in beside Price.

“Well, there haven’t been any others, so I think it’s very likely,” Price said, eyebrows raised.

“That’s fucking depressing,” Zeller grumbled.  

“Hey, what’s up with that Lecter guy?” Price asked suddenly.

Will frowned, looking away.

“What do you mean?” Beverly said.

“He’s kinda… weird. Nice enough, but I feel like he’s got better things to do than help us out. He’s supposed to be like a hot shot psychiatrist, right?”

“Which is why he’s helping us out,” Beverly deadpanned.

“And Will seems to have some kind of personal vendetta against him,” Zeller added.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? I feel like I’m gonna catch hypothermia whenever I’m in the room with the two of you,” Price said.

Will scoffed. “Please. I don’t have a personal vendetta.”

“But something is up between you two,” Price said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“And we are going to find out what it is, even if it kills us,” Zeller said, hand raised to his chest.

“Well, maybe not if it kills us,” Price said.

“All right. But we’re going to work very hard to find out.”

“There’s nothing to find out,” Will snapped, suddenly anxious. “Drop it.”

“Jeez, sorry. Didn’t know you were so sensitive about it,” Zeller said, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not sensitive about it. Just give it a rest.”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Price said with a grin.

“Methinks she doth, for sure,” Zeller nodded.

“What is this, high school? Cut it out,” Beverly said, though she sent Will a strange look.

Will stood up, clearing his throat. “I’m gonna get some air.”

“Ah, come on Will, we were just kidding,” Zeller protested.

“We weren’t being serious,” Price added.

“I know. It’s fine. I just need some air,” Will replied shortly.

Without looking back, he strode out of the room, feeling suddenly constricted by the walls. As he walked along the halls, he saw a familiar figure walking his way. He glanced around, debating if it was worth it to dart into a random room last minute but decided that he still had some dignity. Some. To his dismay, Dr. Lecter was holding two cups of coffee again.

“Hello, Will,” he said pleasantly, slowing down and thereby blocking Will’s path.

Will nodded sourly.

“Coffee?” Lecter said, holding out a cup.

Will sighed, taking it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Were you leaving?”

Will took a sip of coffee, closing his eyes briefly. “No. We have work to do. I was just going for a walk.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

Will grit his teeth, taking a step sideways. “Yes.”

Dr. Lecter tilted his head. “Why?”

Will took a big breath, really not in the mood to be dealing with this right now. “You know why.”

Dr. Lecter chuckled. “It’s only a walk, Will.”

Will grunted, giving up. “Whatever. Do what you want.”

Dr. Lecter beamed. “I usually do.”

Will narrowed his eyes at him, catching a brief glimpse of the man from that night. He shook his head, continuing on his path, Dr. Lecter casually walking alongside him.

They walked in silence. Will opened the door to outside, secretly hoping it would smack Lecter in the face. It didn’t, of course. Will took a deep breath of fresh air, closing his eyes and feeling the bright winter sun on his face.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Dr. Lecter said, and Will glanced at him to see that his eyes were closed.

“You know, I came out here to relax and your presence is kind of hindering that,” Will muttered.

The corner of Dr. Lecter’s mouth rose up in a tiny smile, his eyes remaining closed. Will stared at him, taking in the fluttering eyelashes and prominent mouth.

“I am simply out here enjoying the fresh air,” he replied with a small shrug.

He opened his eyes and he gazed at Will, who quickly looked away. “Have you figured out what to tell Jack yet?” he then asked.

Will looked at him sharply. Dr. Lecter seemed genuinely interested, although Will knew he was being mocked. He swallowed, very strongly pushing down the urge to tell him to fuck off. Instead, he decided not to answer, sullenly continuing his walk, hurrying his pace. Lecter kept up easily.

“I’ll take that as a no, then?”

Will stayed silent, gulping down his coffee and seriously debating whether he should start running.

“If you’d like, I could help you figure it out. As I said before, I wouldn’t know what you would want to tell him exactly, but if you require help formulating the –”

Will stopped abruptly, turning to Dr. Lecter. “Stop. Could you just stop?”

Dr. Lecter paused, curiosity replacing the polite smile. Will dug his nails into his hand.

“I know you’re trying to provoke me, I don’t know why but you seriously need to fucking stop. I don’t want to think about that night anymore. Believe it or not, that was a low moment in my life, and I don’t want to think about it. Your being here is already a constant fucking reminder, never mind that you keep rubbing salt in the wound. So just stop.”

They regarded each other in silence for a while. Dr. Lecter took a breath to reply, but Will didn’t want to hear the answer. He just shook his head and strode off back the way they came. This time, Dr. Lecter stayed behind.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Will spent the rest of the day avoiding Dr. Lecter, and for once the latter left him alone. Beverly practically grabbed him by the collar as he made his way to leave.

“We need to talk,” she said calmly.

Will grunted, and she beckoned for him to follow her as she made her way to the bench they usually sat on outside. Will sat down heavily beside her, and they were quiet for a while.

“Zeller and Price were being dumb, but they have a point,” she started. “You don’t like Dr. Lecter.”

“Yeah.”

“Like, really don’t like him.”

“…Yeah.”

“Why?”

Will shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“Did he do something?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

Will didn’t truthfully know how to answer that, but he replied with “No.”

Beverly’s eyes narrowed further. “If he’s done something –”

“He hasn’t.”

“Then what? I get that you wouldn’t click, but you really dislike him. There has to be a reason for that.”

Will shrugged again and stayed silent, not knowing what to say without either telling the truth or outright lying to her. He didn’t want to do either.

Beverly sighed, leaning her chin on her hand. “All right. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But just don’t let it get in the way of the investigation. It’s difficult enough as it is…”

She trailed off, staring off into the distance. Will looked at her.

“How are you doing?” he asked quietly.

Beverly laughed bitterly, rubbing her eyes. “I’m not really sure how to answer that.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “I know how you feel.”

“This case, Will…” Beverly took a breath. “I’ve seen a lot of fucked up shit working here, but this takes the cake. I don’t want to start talking about nightmares, because I know you have them a lot worse –”

“Don’t, Beverly. My nightmares don’t make yours any less bad.”

Beverly sighed. “I know. It’s just… for the first time, I can’t separate work from my personal life. I’ve always been really good at staying objective and professional, you know. But this case… it’s so much more difficult.”

Will nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s a lot worse for me, too. The whole atmosphere here is different. Bitter. It’s affecting everyone.”

Beverly nodded, too. “It is. I think this is the most serious I’ve ever seen Price and Zeller.”

“Look, I know I’m the last person who should even be suggesting this… but have you thought about maybe talking to someone?” Will said carefully.

Beverly leaned back, her mouth a thin line. “I’ve thought about it. But I’ve figured out the only way I’m going to feel like myself again is when we catch this motherfucker.”

Will was quiet for a while. “I’m just…”

“You’re just what?”

Will let out a breath. “Worried about you.”

Beverly snorted, but she put her hand on Will’s leg, palm up. Will put his hand in hers, and she gave his a squeeze before letting go.

“Now you know how I feel,” she said with a smirk.

Will cleared his throat awkwardly before standing up, Beverly following his lead. “Maybe I should talk to Dr. Lecter. He is a psychiatrist, after all,” she said jokingly as they made their way to their cars.

Will grit his teeth. “If you want.”

Beverly actually laughed. “Somehow, that would feel like betraying you.”

Will gave her a small smile. “That’s stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I see right through you, guy. See you Monday.”

“See you,” Will said, feeling somewhat guilty.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

That night, he tossed and turned in bed, his outburst towards Dr. Lecter replaying over and over in his head. Part of him was feeling ashamed, the other part figured it had to happen sometime. He just hoped Lecter got it now, and would leave him alone from now on.

His nightmares were even worse than they were before.

The following morning he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, his head feeling fuzzy and his eyes heavy from the restless night. He stumbled out of the shower, pulling on whatever clothes he saw first before he went to feed his dogs.

Will froze when there was a knocking at his door. He stood there for a moment, scratching his head, and there was another knock. He frowned, maneuvering his way around his excitedly curious dogs and opening the door.

Will stared at Dr. Lecter in silence for what felt like a good minute. The latter was holding – surprise, surprise – a cup of coffee, and a Tupperware container.

“Good morning, Will,” Dr. Lecter said, breaking the silence.

Will took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “What. On earth. Are you doing here.”

Dr. Lecter smiled, quiet for a moment. “I have given some thought to what you said yesterday, and I figured you may have been somewhat correct. I have been trying to provoke you, and that was unfair of me. It is completely understandable that you would feel uncomfortable working with me, Will, and I don’t blame you in the least after how we met.” He held out the coffee and the Tupperware container.

Will blinked at him.

“Consider this a peace offering, of sorts,” Dr. Lecter continued. “Don’t worry, I won’t be coming in,” he added with a smile.

“How did you find out where I live?” Will blurted out, still staring at the Tupperware container.

“I asked Jack,” Dr. Lecter said simply.

“And he just gave it to you? That’s…” Will trailed off, shaking his head. “This is…”

“Nothing more than a peace offering,” Dr. Lecter finished for him. He glanced meaningfully at what he was holding, and Will finally took it, rendered speechless.

Dr. Lecter beamed at him, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Th…thank you,” Will finally spluttered, utterly unsure of how to feel or what to do.

“It’s my pleasure. I’ll be on my way, now. You’ll be pleased to know that on Monday I will be telling Jack that I’ll have to remove myself from the case. So I wish you the best of luck. Goodbye, Will.” With a final nod, he turned and made his way to his car.

Will stood in the doorway, watching him get into his car and drive away. And he stood there for a long time after he had disappeared. Finally, he turned and closed the door. He slowly set the coffee and the container down on the table and finished giving the dogs their breakfast. Then he sat down at the table and opened the container. The smell that came from it was absolutely delicious, and his stomach growled wildly in response as he looked down at what seemed to be scrambled eggs with sausage. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to eat it.

He stood up again, closing the container and putting in the fridge. Then he took the coffee, put on a coat and went outside to his porch, the dogs streaming out alongside him to run around. He stood there, watching them as he sipped his coffee.

Dr. Lecter was going to remove himself from the case. Because of Will.

There were at least a dozen emotions going through him at that moment, and he didn’t know what to think about any of them. It was definitely all he wanted since the day they had been properly introduced to each other, but on the other hand… it couldn’t be denied that he was very good at what he did. There was a reason Jack had asked him for help, and it didn’t seem fair to impair the progress of the case – however small that was – just because Will had personal feelings towards Dr. Lecter.

Also, Jack would definitely know something was up if Dr. Lecter just suddenly removed himself from the case. Will wouldn’t hear the end of it.

And – if Will was being very, very honest with himself – it didn’t seem completely fair to Dr. Lecter. He was only trying to help with the case, whether Will had been involved or not.

The coffee was bitter on his tongue, and he savoured the strong flavour. It wasn’t BAU coffee, and whatever it was, it was good. He stood there on the porch until the coffee was done. After that, he went back inside, and, completely against his nature, went to lie back down in bed.

It didn’t offer his mind the relaxation it offered his body. If he was going to be absolutely childish and petty, which a part of him longed to be, he would let Lecter do his thing and continue on the case without the constant reminder that he tried to kill himself.

But he didn’t know if he had that in him.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his contacts as if looking for someone who could offer some advice. He paused at Beverly’s name, before locking his phone again and throwing it onto the bed beside him.

He didn’t have Dr. Lecter’s number.

Of course he didn’t have his number. Why would he? It wasn’t like he wanted to call him.

But maybe he should. Maybe Dr. Lecter shouldn’t have to remove himself from the case just because of Will. On the other hand, wasn’t it a dream come true?

Will groaned, covering his face with his hands. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this conflicted in his life.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would make a decision. That meant he had a whole day to think about this. A whole day to weigh the options.

A whole day to overthink.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the feedback babes!!! warning, terrible child crime scene in this chapter. you can read over the details, it'll be referred to in less detail later on. also sorry for this being a tad late (thankfully i was smart enough to give a warning in the last chapter's notes). as long as i make it before the next week is out, i'm satisfied lol. anyway, enjoy as always <3

**Chapter 4**

Anxiety made it feel like something was eating away at Will’s insides. He had his phone in one hand, his other hand hovering over the keyboard of his laptop. He was staring at Dr. Lecter’s office phone number on the screen, which a quick search on Google had provided.

Even at this point, he was unsure of what to do. He had made the fair decision, discovered he couldn’t be the type of person to let Lecter quit because of him. It didn’t make sense, but that was that, apparently.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to enter the number into his phone. A small part of him hoped that it would go to voicemail, but he knew, even from the interactions they’d had, that Dr. Lecter wasn’t going to be the type of person to let an office call go to voicemail.

God fucking damn it.

He stood up, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and took a few good gulps from the bottle before putting it back. He sat back down, entering the number into his phone and dialing before he could decide against it. The phone rang once, twice.

“Hello, this is Dr. Lecter.”

Will took a breath, his courage disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

“Hello?” came Dr. Lecter’s voice.

“This is Will,” he finally managed after clearing his throat.

There was a tiny pause. “Will?” Dr Lecter said, sounding surprised. “To what do I owe this call?”

“Uh…” Will hesitated. “I… I just wanted to say that you… you shouldn’t pull out of the case.”

Silence. Will closed his eyes.

“This is… surprising. What caused this sudden change of heart?” His voice was calm, pleasant.

“I just don’t think you should have to quit because of our… situation. It’s not fair. To the case,” he added hastily.

“I see,” Dr. Lecter said after another moment of silence. “Well, as you know, the only reason I am removing myself is because it’s clearly difficult for you to be working with me. Which is in no way meant as an accusation, as I said before, it’s completely understandable. Won’t it still be difficult?”

Will sniffed. “Yeah. Yeah, it’ll be difficult. And I’m not saying I’m going to suddenly start… liking you. No offense, but I think that ship has sailed. I’m saying that we’ll work together until this is all over. I won’t be a dick to you, but we’ll keep it strictly professional.”

“I see,” Dr. Lecter said again, a smile in his voice. “Strictly professional.”

“Yup. And I don’t want to talk about that night again. Ever. Okay?”

“Understood. Let me just get this straight – you don’t want me to call Jack Crawford tomorrow and tell him I’m removing myself from the case?”

Will bit his lip, quiet for a moment. Then, “No, I don’t want you to call Jack Crawford.”

“Then I won’t call Jack,” Dr. Lecter said. “Thank you for calling, Will.”

“Yeah,” Will said gruffly.

“Did you enjoy your breakfast yesterday?”

Will paused, hand going through his hair. He’d had it this morning, and it had tasted delicious even after being microwaved. “Yeah. It was good. Thanks.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ll admit I was a tad worried you wouldn’t eat it,” Dr. Lecter said lightly.

“Listen, Dr. Lecter –”

“Will, please. Call me Hannibal.”

Will sighed. “All right. Hannibal, I’d appreciate it if Jack didn’t find out about any of this… not just the obvious, but also the fact that you wanted to quit. He’d know something was up immediately.”

“Of course. This will stay between us.”

Will nodded, before remembering Dr. Lecter – Hannibal – couldn’t see him, so he said, “All right. Thanks.”

It was quiet for a moment, and Will felt increasingly awkward. “Well, that’s all, I guess. See you tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow. I’m glad we’ll continue to work together, Will.”

Will didn’t reply, quickly hanging up instead. That conversation had been a lot longer than he had intended it to be. He was somewhat worried that Hannibal had gotten the wrong impression after all; that Will wanted them to become friendly despite what had happened. He didn’t think so, but if that was the case, he was sure he would realise differently after tomorrow.

And all of this didn’t mean Will had forgotten the man who had been prepared to watch him fall to his death. The man who had been taunting him, almost. He had seen nothing of that man since Hannibal had started working with them, but he knew he was in there.

He sat at his desk for a long time after that, wondering if he had done the right thing.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

For once, Will was the early one in Jack’s office. He and Jack were sitting at Jack’s desk, Will sipping his coffee. They were having a – rare – light-hearted conversation. Jack was particularly interested in how Will’s dogs were doing, and Will told him he had recently picked up a new stray he had named Winston; a fact that seemed to amuse and exasperate Jack at the same time.

“You’re doing okay, though, right?” Jack then asked, turning serious.

Will blinked at him before forcing a half smile. “Yeah. Why?”

“No, hang on. I know no one’s doing okay, really. No one’s feeling quite themselves. I guess what I’m asking is, is it too much? Are you hanging in there?”

Will swallowed harshly. Images of the black, choppy water flashed through his mind. “I’m hanging in there,” he said quietly.

Jack gave a curt nod. “Good. You know you have people to lean on, right?”

Will nodded. “Are you hanging in there?” he asked slowly.

Jack blinked, obviously not having expected the question. “Yes. Yeah, I am, Will.”

There was a moment of silence, which was broken by Hannibal knocking on the door. He gave them both a warm smile, and Will noticed he wasn’t carrying an extra cup of coffee this time.

“Good morning, Hannibal.”

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Let’s head down to the lab. Anyone want a coffee before we –” Jack paused, digging into his pocket and fishing out his phone. He frowned, picking up.

“This is Special Agent Crawford. Yes… I see. No, thank you. Thanks.”

Will’s heart sank as he watched Jack’s facial expressions throughout the short conversation. He hung up, and looked at Will, his face dark. Will raised his eyebrows and Jack nodded wordlessly.

“All right. Let’s go,” Will said quietly.

Hannibal followed them without question, his expression also more solemn than before. Jack assembled the team and after a short while they all stepped outside. Jack gestured at Hannibal and Will to follow him.

“You two had better just come with me in my car.”

Will crushed down his brief moment of panic at being stuck in a small, confined space with Hannibal; there were more pressing issues at hand.

They drove in silence, Will feeling too on edge to say a single word. He couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d find, but at the same time, it was the last thing he wanted to think about. Finally, they stopped – in the middle of suburbia, as Will feared – and got out of the car, the team following suite. Jack held out his arm, blocking the way to the door. He turned to Will, his jaw set.

“Will, the crime scene hasn’t been disturbed even a little. This would be the best –”

“I know. Let me through,” Will said shortly, bracing himself for whatever was to come.

Jack nodded, opening the door for him. “Bedroom.”

Will saw from the corner of his eye that Hannibal stayed behind as well, which Will appreciated. The door fell shut behind him and the complete silence of the house unsettled him deeply. Somewhere in this house, there was the dead body of a child, displayed in some horrific way.

He slowly began to make his way through the house, uneaten plates of breakfast on the table. Will wondered, unwillingly, how the parents were doing.

He tried to think of the parents of these children as little as possible. He especially avoided empathising with them. He didn’t think he’d be able to bounce back from that pain.

He continued his way through the house, pointedly ignoring the objects that showed a child lived there. Despite his best efforts, he could see it was an older child. Not a toddler. Old enough to know what was happening to them.

Will swallowed harshly and made his way up the stairs. Somehow, it seemed even more quiet here than it did downstairs. It was the heavy silence of something being incredibly wrong. Will felt a shudder go through him as he forced himself to continue to the bedroom.

He paused, closing his eyes, before stepping inside and opening them.

This was, without a doubt, the worst scene yet. And he didn’t think that was possible after the last one.

The girl’s head was lying on a pillow, facing away from the door. Her naked body was sitting in the corner of the room, propped up against the wall. Will walked towards it slowly to see the girl had been disemboweled, and her own hand had been plunged deep into her gut.

The wall beside her was covered, from ceiling to floor, in bloody writing. Will felt the bile rise to his throat yet again as his eyes trailed the words.

_Why are you doing this? Please stop. It hurts._

_Please! You’re hurting me…  I want my mommy…. No, please, no, no…_

There was so much more written than that, but a quick glance told him that it was all like that. He couldn’t bring himself to properly read the rest.

He looked back at the disembodied head and saw that it was staring right at the wall covered in writing. The killer had taken the time to create tear-like drops of blood under the eyes, so it looked like she was crying blood.

Will closed his eyes, forced himself to focus and stay calm.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Jesus Christ,” Beverly whispered, her face suddenly grey.

Will didn’t respond as she and the rest of the team pushed past him to get into the room. Jack pulled him aside.

“I’m pretty sure the cause of death was blood loss. I saw some lacerations and bruises on her, but none big enough to be the cause of death. Her head was cut off postmortem.”

“The disembowelment,” Jack nodded grimly. “What else?”

“The killer collected her blood so he could write down the last words she’d ever said for her parents to see. He wanted to make sure her parents knew exactly how much she suffered.”

“Why was her head cut off?” Jack asked quietly. “What was the significance of that?”

“He wanted to make sure that she was reading the words he had written, while at the same time making it clear that her blood was used for them. That’s why he had her head facing the wall and her body propped up next to it, with her hand in her guts. As if she… she finger-painted it.”

Jack nodded again, his jaw clenched. “Hannibal’s taking a look with the others. Go get some air.”

Will nodded, gladly leaving the house. A crowd had gathered, much to his dismay. He walked past the police tape, found a quiet spot and sat down on the pavement, holding his head between his knees and taking deep breaths.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up to see a pretty woman with curly red hair staring down at him, looking concerned. “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.”

The woman bit her lip, looking back towards the house. “I’m sorry… I live a few houses down, and I’m really worried about what’s going on in there…”

Will stiffened, standing up. “I can’t tell you anything. You’d best approach Agent Crawford about that, he can help you.”

He made to leave, to make his way back to that horrible, horrible house, but her hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, immediately letting go. “I just… are they okay?”

Will softened when he saw tears in the woman’s eyes. “I’m really sorry. I can’t tell you anything.”

The woman nodded, running her hands through her hair as tears fell down her cheeks for real now.

“Just… go back home until everything here has calmed down, all right? Then ask for Jack Crawford. Like I said, I’m sure he’ll tell you what you want to know.”

The woman nodded again. “All right. Thank you so much, Agent…?”

“Graham. Excuse me,” he said, hastily making his way back.

He slipped through the crowd, walking around to the back of the house so he could find some peace in the garden. He closed his eyes, trying to get the images of just now out of his mind.

_Something’s not right…_

_Something’s missing…_

He grunted in frustration, shaking his head. He looked up at the sky, which seemed to turn darker by the minute. He frowned in confusion, continuing to stare at the sky which was turning dark purple and blue and black, the colours swirling around like a Van Gogh painting. In the distance, he thought he heard heavy hooves on the ground, approaching him slowly from behind. He turned around.

And everything was back to normal, the sky was a crisp grey, his breath was leaving his mouth in a white mist and Hannibal was walking up to him.

“Will,” he said. “I thought I’d come and see how you were.”

Will didn’t reply, still reeling from what had just happened. He blinked a few times, but the sky stayed the same, the sound of hooves had disappeared. He flinched at the touch of a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you feeling all right?” Hannibal asked quietly, looking at him with concern.

Will nodded, suddenly breathless. “I just… thought I saw something. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Hannibal’s frown deepened, and Will turned away. “What did you think? Of the crime scene,” he asked quickly.

Hannibal pursed his lips, looking into the distance. “I feel like I can create a perfect profile of the killer, yet at the same time, I feel like I cannot see him at all.”

Will looked at him.

“Jack told me what you told him. Will, as fascinating and intriguing as your gift is, I can’t imagine the toll it must take on you. Especially with the crime scene inside.”

Will looked at him warily. “Yeah?”

Hannibal gave a small smile. “I just hope you’re able to keep yourself from getting in too deep.”

Will shrugged. “I sure hope so.”

He pushed down what he had just seen. It was probably just a one-time thing, anyway.

“I realise you don’t want to hear this, but I promise you I am always willing to talk if you would like,” Hannibal then said solemnly.

Will crossed his arms and looked away, sniffing. “I don’t do therapy. Even without our… context, I would have to politely decline.”

Hannibal smirked, as if the idea of Will being polite about anything amused him greatly. Which was… yeah, fair enough.

Hannibal turned serious again quickly. “You haven’t had my therapy.”

“Nor do I want it.”

Hannibal nodded with a small sigh. “Understood. If you ever change your mind, you have my number.”

They were silent for a while, Will feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

“Poor little Abigail Hobbs,” Hannibal then said quietly, looking as people walked in and out of the house. “No child should have to suffer as much as she did.”

Will nodded slowly. “I have a feeling this is the one that’s going to make the country panic properly now.”

“Most likely,” Hannibal agreed.

Will thought of nine-year-old Abigail’s lifeless eyes staring at her last words written in her own blood, and felt more determined than ever to find whoever was doing this.

A long while later, when they were driving back, Will looked out the window to see the red-haired woman staring at them, a strange expression on her face.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Dude, I actually threw up this time,” he could hear Zeller whispering to Price.

He walked around them, not having the energy to deal with them right now. Feeling stupid, he jogged so he could catch up with Hannibal. He tapped him on the shoulder.

“This is yours,” Will blurted as he held out the Tupperware container.

Hannibal looked down and took it with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Okay. Bye,” Will said, glad he had gotten rid of the only thing in his house that reminded him of Hannibal.

“Will, wait,” Hannibal called.

Will paused and turned stiffly despite himself. He froze when Hannibal reached out and plucked something from his collar. He raised his hand to show Will it was a tiny twig. Then he reached down again and straightened out the crease he had left in Will’s collar.

“I apologise, but that has irritated me for quite a while now,” Hannibal said with a small smirk. “Have a good day, Will.” With that, he turned and continued his path.

Will stood there, his face hot, staring after him until his mind had caught up with him again. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO as always thank you for the feedback i love yall <3  
> also it's 4 am where i'm at and i currently feel like this: https://imgur.com/gallery/Pnph2  
> ANYWAY enjoy xxx

**Chapter 5**

Will didn’t know how to feel about the strange sight of Hannibal in his classroom, peering at Will’s laptop beside him with his hands clasped behind his back and a focused expression on his face.

He didn’t think he’d ever feel comfortable with it.

Even the fact that they were in a room with no one there but the other was enough to set Will on edge. He had vowed to be nicer to Hannibal – or civil, at least – but that didn’t change the fact that the man’s entire presence made him uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t entirely name.

None of it mattered, though, because at the end of the day Hannibal and Will were to work together and that was that. Besides, the faster they solved this case and got the killer arrested, the faster Hannibal could leave and Will would never have to see him again.

“Yesterday you said you felt like you could create a perfect profile of the killer,” Will said quietly, staring at the picture of Abigail Hobbs on the screen.

“Or not at all,” Hannibal added.

Will nodded. “So what would the perfect profile be?”

Hannibal straightened, and he looked at Will thoughtfully. “I see him as a man who has had a terrible childhood. Most of them have, of course. But something terrible, something horrifying happened to this person when he was a child. As a result, he would be an extremely timid man, socially incompetent, insecure and showing sexually deviant behaviour. He would have to be able to retain some shred of normalcy, though, to be able to do what he does without anyone noticing. He would have a job which required as little social interaction as possible. Very much below his capabilities, as he has shown himself to be an intelligent man.” Hannibal gave a small shrug. “But I am sure you have thought of all that, and more.”

Will blinked, briefly surprised despite himself. He had to remind himself that there was a reason Jack had asked Hannibal to consult. Will was starting to see this reason more and more.

“Or, as I said before, he could be none of those things.”

Will opened his mouth to reply when there was a knock on the door. He turned, startled.

“Expecting anyone?” Hannibal asked light-heartedly.

Will shook his head. “Come in?”

He blinked in surprise when the woman with the curly red hair from the day before came in, smiling meekly.

“Hi,” she said, glancing from him to Hannibal. “Sorry, is this a bad time?”

“Uh, hello. That depends?” Will replied, frowning in confusion.

The woman tossed her head with a small, shy smile. “This might be forward, but I really appreciated your help yesterday. I heard from Agent Crawford what had happened and I…” she swallowed harshly. “I was hoping maybe we could… talk, if that’s okay with you. I need to wrap my head around the situation and you were so friendly to me yesterday –”

“Are you Freddie Lounds?” Hannibal abruptly asked, tilting his head.

The woman’s shy smile fell and a bitter one replaced it. She looked at Hannibal coldly. “I’m so embarrassed,” she said coolly.

Will looked from Hannibal to her, his stomach dropping.

“You should be. This is unethical, even for a tabloid journalist,” Hannibal said conversationally.

“What gave it away?” Freddie Lounds asked, her meek and gentle façade dropping completely to reveal the cool, calculating interior.

Hannibal smiled at her pleasantly before holding out a hand. “I’m afraid I must ask for your bag.”

Freddie Lounds blinked. “What?”

“Your bag, please. Hand it over. I’d rather not take it from you. Please.”

Hannibal’s voice was perfectly polite, yet Will – and, by the looks of it, Freddie – knew that he would absolutely take the bag from her if necessary. Freddie Lounds handed him the bag, glaring.

Hannibal put the bag on the desk, and Will and Freddie stared wordlessly as he delicately opened it and plucked out her phone.

“I was –” Freddie started.

“Yes?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, looking away.

Hannibal nodded to himself. “Delete the recording, please.”

Freddie hesitantly took the phone from him and stopped the recording.

“Delete it, please,” Hannibal repeated.

She deleted the recording. Hannibal examined her phone, making sure the recording was deleted, before nodding and handing it back to her.

“You’re a good fucking actress,” Will finally spat, having found his voice again.

Freddie turned to him for the first time since Hannibal had exposed her, smiling sweetly. “You’re not so bad yourself, Will Graham.”

He sneered at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know. Acting like the murders bother you, like you get upset at crime scenes. While in reality, you get off on them, don’t you?”

Will stared at her in disgusted astonishment. “What the fuck –”

“Why else would you keep coming back? There’s obviously something wrong with you, and –"

“That’s enough, Miss Lounds,” Hannibal said. “You’ve been terribly rude. It would be best for you to leave.”

Freddie Lounds glanced at Hannibal. “I think you’re right, Dr. Lecter. I’ve heard enough, either way. Good night, gentlemen. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon enough.”

Will and Hannibal watched her leave in silence, the door closing softly behind her. As soon as she was gone, Will turned away, running his hands through his hair and pacing through the room.

“Jesus Christ, I’m an idiot,” he muttered, more to himself than to Hannibal.

“I disagree. Miss Lounds is a very skilled liar, and very good at getting what she wants. She took advantage of your kind nature, that is in no way your fault,” Hannibal said calmly.

Will glanced at him, frowning. “How did you know it was her?”

Hannibal examined his fingernails, giving a modest shrug. “Call it a hunch.”

Will nodded absent-mindedly, still pacing around the room. He froze when he felt two firm hands clasp his shoulders from behind.

“Take a breath, Will,” Hannibal said quietly, his voice close – too close – to Will’s ear.

Images of the same hand on the same shoulder on a very different night flashed in front of his eyes, and he lurched away. Hannibal took a step back, his hands raised. They stared at each other for a while, Will trying to calm his wildly beating heart.

“Will, I –” Hannibal started.

“Let’s just call it a night, yeah?” Will said loudly. “It’s late and we’re not getting anywhere anyway. See you tomorrow.”

He grabbed his laptop and files as hastily as he could, stuffed them into his bag and was out of the room before Hannibal could reply.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

_Inky black fingers roaming over his naked body. Sharp claws digging into his flesh. A high-pitched giggle echoing in his ears. In the distance, the sound of heavy hooves nearing him. The shadow of enormous antlers darkening his view._

_Something wasn’t right._

Will awoke, sweating and panting, and he looked at the clock with a quiet groan. An hour and a half was better than nothing, he guessed.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Coffee, Will?”

Instead of taking it, Will turned towards him abruptly, frowning. “Why? Why do you keep getting me coffee?”

Hannibal blinked, quiet for a moment. “Do I need a reason to get coffee for a colleague?” he then said with a bewildered laugh.

Will grimaced. “Almost every day, you’re getting me coffee like you think it’s going to make me like you. It’s not, so if that was your goal, you can stop, okay?”

Hannibal observed him for a moment, then gave a nod. He walked over to the nearest trash can and dropped the coffee into it. “I’ll stop getting you coffee, Will,” he said then, walking away without a backwards glance.

Will stood there, staring after him and wondering if he had just been a giant dick.

He heard a low whistle from behind him, and he spun around to see Beverly sauntering up to him with a stirring stick in her mouth. “That was cold,” she said around the stick.

Will didn’t reply, instead looked back to where Hannibal had disappeared. Beverly took the stick out of her mouth, dropping it back into her coffee cup. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business, but… did he deserve that?”

Will ran a hand through his hair. “When I said it, I thought he did.”

Beverly smiled. “Huh. And after you said it?”

Will sighed. “I forgot what I was so angry about.”

“Right,” Beverly nodded.

They stood in silence for a moment until Beverly punched him lightly on the shoulder. “I gotta get down to the lab. Lunch?”

“Actually…” Will said slowly.

Beverly gave him a knowing grin. “Got it.” With that, she left him too.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Come in,” Jack’s voice sounded after Will had knocked. “Hi, Will.”

“Hi.”

“What can I do for you?” Jack looked beyond tired, sounded like he was about to lose hope completely. It worried Will more than he could say.

“I was wondering if you knew where Hannibal was.”

Jack’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, I expect he’ll be in his office.”

“He’s not here?”

“No. He’s still working as a psychiatrist, you know. He still has his actual job besides this.”

Will nodded. “Right.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Would you… like the address for his office?” Jack then asked, his eyebrows still raised.

“Jack, you really shouldn’t just be giving out addresses like this, but yes. Yes, I would.”

Jack scoffed as he wrote down Hannibal’s address. “I only gave your address to Hannibal, whom I trust completely, and now I’m giving you his address. To be honest, I assumed you would have been meeting up at his office to look over the case together anyway.”

Will shook his head and snatched the piece of paper from Jack’s hand before he could ask any more questions. “Thanks, Jack. See you later.”

A short while later, he was pulling up in front of Hannibal’s office. He got out of the car before he could change his mind, marched up to the door and rang the doorbell. A few minutes passed and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to contain the anxiety quickly building up inside him. When Hannibal finally opened the door, Will didn’t give him time to speak.

“Hi. I came here to apologise for what I said earlier, I’ve had a really bad night and that’s not an excuse but it’s sort of an explanation. So I’m sorry. Anyway, I thought I should make it up to you and I thought maybe we could have lunch. On me. So, yeah. That’s it.” Will took a deep breath and firmly stared at Hannibal’s right arm in the moments that followed.

“You’re forgiven. I’d be happy to have lunch with you, Will,” Hannibal finally said. Will glanced up to see him smiling warmly at him.

Will’s mouth twitched into a brief smile as well.

“Let me just get my coat.”

Will nodded, putting his cold hands in his pockets. Hannibal returned, closing the door behind him. “What did you have in mind?”

Will sniffed. “There’s this new Italian place a friend recommended. She’s got excellent taste so I’ve got high hopes. It should be walking distance from here.”

Hannibal nodded, extending an arm. “Lead the way.”

They walked side by side, mostly in silence. Hannibal had his gloved hands clasped behind his back, as he did so often, and Will’s hands were stuffed into his pockets. When they arrived at the restaurant Hannibal held the door open for him, which he thought was weird. They were seated and offered the drink menu.

“What is your drink, Will?”

Will sniffed, the tip of his nose still numb from the cold. “Whiskey. But I’ll usually drink anything.”

“Red wine?”

Will shrugged and nodded, wondering vaguely what the hell he was doing. He stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

He went to the bathroom, washed his face in the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror and suddenly realised that, officially, they had met in a restaurant. He tried to swallow away the sudden sour taste in his mouth. Now was not the time. He was taking Hannibal out for lunch because he had been a giant dick to him.

He was taking Hannibal out for lunch. He was taking…?

Will’s eyes widened in the mirror, and he wondered how the fuck he had gotten himself into this. He didn’t like Hannibal. He would never like Hannibal. He didn’t care what Hannibal thought of him, and he didn’t care if he hurt Hannibal’s feelings. So what the fuck was this?

Eventually, Will chalked it up to his – as Hannibal had called it – ‘kind nature.’ No, nope, that was bullshit. He didn’t know why he was doing this, but it was too late to back away now, so he’d have to sit it out.

He returned to the table, saw that the wine had already arrived along with the menus. Will wasn’t actually hungry – his appetite had been fading more and more the past few weeks. This case was affecting him in too many ways to even keep up with.

Hannibal smiled at him as he sat down. “Are you all right?”

Will nodded jerkily. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He took a big gulp of wine, almost choked on it.

Hannibal took a sip from his own wine, eyeing Will with a raised eyebrow. “You certainly seem it.”

Will decided not to respond to that, instead focusing on the menu. They ordered their food, and Will leaned back, one arm across his abdomen supporting the elbow of his other arm as he held his wine.

“This is a nice place. Who was it that recommended it to you? Agent Katz?” Hannibal said conversationally.

Will shook his head. “No, a… a psychiatrist friend we sometimes consult as well. Dr. Bloom.”

“Alana Bloom?”

Will blinked in surprise. “Yeah, Alana Bloom. You know her?”

Hannibal nodded. “I used to be her mentor years ago. I have a lot of respect for her.”

“She deserves a lot of respect,” Will said slowly, trying to figure out whether there was more there.

He couldn’t even begin to fathom the amount of discomfort he felt at the thought of Alana and Hannibal together.

“Can I ask you something, Will?” Hannibal said then.

Will eyed him warily. “That depends.”

Hannibal gave a small smile and looked down at his wine. “I wonder… if me and you had met that day in Jack’s office, with no prior knowledge of the other’s existence… Would you have disliked me so?”

Will was quiet for a long time, long enough so that their food arrived and they started eating. Hannibal waited patiently. Finally, Will said: “The person I met in Jack’s office isn’t the same person I met on that night at the bridge.”

“You’ve said that before. I’m afraid it’s not true. I am always the same person. I just do not always show certain parts of myself in different situations,” Hannibal said calmly, cutting into his food. “Just like you don’t show certain parts of yourself in different situations. Just like anyone.”

“No part of me would stand there and watch while someone tries to commit suicide,” Will snapped, looking up at Hannibal.

The latter gave him an indecipherable look before taking a sip of wine. “I was under the impression that we were never to talk of that.”

“We’re not. Strangely enough, though, it’s something I’m having trouble letting go of,” Will said coldly.

“You struggle to make sense of my actions from that night,” Hannibal stated with a nod.

“You could say that.”

“Understandable. Although I must ask, how would you respond if you came across a situation like that? If you came across a person who was very clear they couldn’t be persuaded otherwise? Would you physically fight them? Would you call the police, surely only upsetting and thus encouraging this person more? What would be the right course of action, in your mind?”

Will was quiet for a moment, thinking, his fingers tapping on the table. His almost full plate was in front of him, forgotten. “I would talk to them,” he said quietly. “Without making it seem like I was trying hard to persuade them otherwise.”

“Which, I would argue, is exactly what I did,” Hannibal said pleasantly, inhaling the bouquet of the wine before taking a sip. “This is excellent wine.”

Will blinked at him. “No, that’s not what you did,” he snapped, although he was starting to doubt himself.

He couldn’t remember the exact conversation they had had, only snippets and The Question, so couldn’t it be possible that that was exactly what Hannibal had been trying to do? That he was saying those strange things to get Will to think about what he was about to do? Really think?

“That’s not what you did,” he repeated, quieter now.

“Then what, dear Will, did I do, according to you?” Hannibal asked with a kind smile.

Will stared at him for a long time. No. He was so sure that night, and the days after, that the things Hannibal had said weren’t remotely normal. No matter how convincing Hannibal was being right now, Will wasn’t delusional.

“I don’t know what you were trying to achieve,” he said slowly, “but it certainly wasn’t what you’re saying it was. I don’t believe you, Dr. Lecter. I think you’re manipulating me.”

As soon as he spoke the words, he realised how true they were.

Hannibal looked at him, a cold, calculating look that was softened only by the slight turning up of the corners of his mouth.  He tilted his head ever so slightly. “Do you?”

Will nodded, draining his wine. “I do. I think you’re manipulating me, and I think you manipulate a lot of people in your life, and usually it works. You’re charming, good-looking and a smooth talker, after all. You’re not obvious about it. People don’t suspect things like that from you, because you work very hard to cover it up.”

Hannibal continued looking at him, and for once Will didn’t break eye-contact. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Hannibal said quietly.

“You know,” Will said as he stood up, “I think I’m seeing that man from the bridge after all.” He tossed some dollar bills on the table. “Like I said, lunch is on me.”

With that, he left the restaurant.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

In the days that followed, Will was cool and distant to Hannibal. Not uncivil, but he was making sure that it was never just the two of them in the room. They certainly didn’t pore over the files together as Jack expected them to.

Hannibal’s attitude towards him had changed ever so slightly. He was never impolite, never unfriendly, but there was something… different. Something calculating that had surfaced after their conversation in the restaurant. Something… more aware. Will felt like his every action was being watched and analysed. It made him uncomfortable beyond words.

Every time they were in a room together, Will could feel his dislike for the man grow. He didn’t know if the dislike was reciprocated, but if it wasn’t, it surely would be soon. All the better, in Will’s opinion. He couldn’t wait until they had caught the piece of shit killer so that Hannibal could disappear from his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hannibal's internal monologue during that last convo: fuck fuck fuck shit shitting fuck fuck shit


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for the feedback as usual!! and this one's a bit late i know guys. i need to stop assuming i can keep to a deadline i set for myself lmao i'm so busy and when i'm not busy i'm sleepy but it's still not the end of the week yet so thank fuck for that i guess  
> anyway enjoy <3

**Chapter 6**

Despite all the animosity he felt towards Hannibal, there was no denying the dreams.

Warm, sweaty bodies entangled – fingers stroking – soft, dry lips – a kiss against a sharp cheekbone.

The first time it happened, he’d awoken, sweaty and panting and hard, and utterly, _utterly_ confused. If it was just a one-time thing, it would have been okay. That happens sometimes, right? The human brain is weird. But it wasn’t a one-time thing.

Ever since that night, in the few hours of sleep he got, almost all of them involved him and Hannibal having sex. Sometimes they were scary – they’d be a nightmare and sex dream tangled into one, and sometimes they… weren’t scary. He didn’t want to think about the fact that the nightmare sex dreams turned him on just as much – sometimes even more – than the regular sex dreams.

He didn’t understand. He despised the man. Wanted nothing to do with him. And yet it was now difficult to be in the same room with him, not only for those reasons, but for other reasons too. More than once he caught himself staring at the curve of his lips, or the broad shoulders – and whenever he did catch himself, he’d mentally slap himself across the face, disgusted.

One time he had caught Hannibal watching him during one of these moments, a sly smile flitting over his features and disappearing before Will could properly register it. He hoped fervently that it had been his imagination. Hannibal was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a mind reader. There was no way he could know about the thoughts that invaded Will when he looked at Hannibal – a mix of insults and… other thoughts – or about the dreams that he was having. The dreams his mind often drifted to when he was idle.

A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that there was probably a reason he was having these dreams so often.

That small voice grew louder and louder by the day. Thank god they weren’t really speaking. Or, at least, Will wasn’t really speaking to Hannibal. Hannibal was still being his polite, friendly self. Or rather, the polite, friendly _part_ of himself. And yet… Will didn’t know if he was imagining things, but it seemed that Hannibal kept coming just a little too close, kept brushing against him just a little too often, letting his eyes linger just a little too long.

He’d stopped with the coffee, though, thank god. For now.

At the moment, Will was sipping coffee he had gotten himself, looking at the crime scene pictures for the umpteenth time. It was late, and his classroom was dark and quiet. This had become routine for the past few days. Endless hours spent looking into the case, and he was getting absolutely nowhere. The frustration was eating at him. He wondered if Hannibal was having any more luck than he. Probably not, or he would have heard about it.

He would never forgive himself if they never caught the killer. He was pretty sure no one would forgive themselves. This was not one they would be letting go, ever.

He startled when his phone started to buzz.

“Will, you need to come down to the lab,” Beverly said, not giving him a chance to even say hello.

“Beverly? What are you still doing here –”

“Will. I’m dead fucking serious. Come down. Now.”

He didn’t need more convincing. Closing the classroom door behind him, he hastily made his way through the empty hallways and down to the lab, his footsteps echoing behind him. He burst through the door to see Beverly pacing around the room, coming to a sudden standstill when she saw him.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Will asked breathlessly.

Beverly took a breath, her arms gesturing with a dangerously full coffee cup. “The semen.”

She looked at him expectantly. Will raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, what?”

Beverly tutted and put the cup of coffee down. “The semen. Every child was found with semen somewhere on their bodies, right?”

Will nodded.

“It’s different. Every child has different semen on them,” Beverly then said slowly.

It was quiet for a moment.

“What?” Will then said, his voice almost a whisper.

“Every child. I checked, double checked, triple checked, quadruple checked. Different child, different semen.”

Will slowly sank into a chair. “Holy shit, Beverly. Have you –”

“Yes, I’ve called Jack. Right before I called you.”

“I can’t believe you actually made some progress. I was kind of losing hope, to be honest with you.”

“You and me both. Thankfully I’m obsessive and thorough.”

“So does this mean the children weren’t sexually assaulted?”

“No, they were. The physical signs were very clear on all of them.”

Jack arrived very shortly after, bursting through the door much like Will had done. Will rapidly tapped his fingers on his knees as Beverly told him what she had found. Jack turned to Will.

“So this is –”

Hannibal came into the room, much to Will’s dismay, and Beverly quickly informed him as well. Jack looked from Hannibal to Will this time as he spoke.

“So this is multiple men, then. They’re working as a group.”

Will was quiet as Hannibal and Jack discussed this, Beverly sitting down heavily and practically chugging down her coffee.

“So how do they operate? Could they all have vendettas against the parents? Every family is targeted by a different man from the group? How do they –”

“No,” Will said quietly.

Jack turned to him sharply. “What?”

Will shook his head, standing up. “No. It’s not multiple men. It’s one man.”

Beverly and Jack glanced at each other while Hannibal looked at Will with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Will, I told you how often I checked, right? It’s not the same –”

“I know, Beverly. It’s different semen. But it’s one person.”

The room was quiet for a few moments.

“What makes you so sure?” Jack then asked, crossing his arms.

Will took a breath. “I’m just sure, Jack. The nature of the crimes… they’re too personal, too similar.”

“Yeah, they would be personal if every man attacked the child of the family he had some sort of history with, right?” Jack said.

“No, I think Will’s right,” Hannibal then said quietly. Everyone turned to him. “It is extremely unlikely that a group of people would all be so similar in their modus operandi. Even if they did… make decisions on how the murders should be done, there would be obvious differences. Moreover, I highly doubt that they would all be intelligent enough to individually manage the kidnappings, murders and the placing of the bodies back into the home. I say individually because there simply no possible way for a group of at least four men to place a body back into a home without anyone noticing. Especially not this often.”

The room was quiet for what felt like a long time. Will glanced up to see Hannibal looking at him, and he looked away again quickly, suppressing the highly inappropriate reactions and thoughts that flooded into him.

“So what you’re saying,” Jack said slowly, “is that this case just became even more confusing than it already was.”

The four of them were quiet, the weight of this statement resonating with all of them.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

It was three hours later, and Will was back at his desk, his mind racing. Dozens of theories had crossed his mind, but none of them made any sense. Did the killer collect semen, sexually assault the children and then place the semen there in order to lead the investigation away from himself? That was the only theory that was plausible, and even that was a stretch. It didn’t feel right.

Jack was right. Will was more confused than ever and felt like he had to start from the beginning. He groaned, shoving the files away and laying his forehead on the desk. He wished he had a glass of whiskey. No, that was a lie. A bottle would have been better.

“Will?”

He jerked up, going absolutely rigid. Hannibal approached him slowly, warily.

“What are you still doing here?” Will spluttered, standing up.

“I’ve been looking over the case. It seems that we both haven’t really gotten anywhere, though.”

“What do you want?” Will said, crossing his arms.

Hannibal stopped at the other side of the desk, a thoughtful look on his face.

“I think we should talk,” he said quietly.

Will scoffed, uncomfortably aware of the fact that they were alone in a room together for the first time in a while. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Will, please,” Hannibal said, tilting his head. “This is getting in the way of our work. Didn’t we already agree that that shouldn’t happen?”

“Yes, we did. That was naïve,” Will said.

Hannibal gave him a look, before walking around the desk and coming to stand right in front of Will. The latter swallowed, edging backwards.

“So do you think I should go ahead and resign from the case, after all?” Hannibal asked quietly, glancing down at the distance Will was trying to create between them.

“I don’t care what you do,” Will spat, avoiding Hannibal’s prying eyes.

“Well, that’s just an outright lie,” Hannibal replied with a smirk.

Will glanced up at him, frowning. “No, it fucking isn’t,” he sneered indignantly.

“Really? So you wouldn’t care if I did this?” Before he had even stopped talking, Hannibal took a step forward, put his hand on the back of Will’s neck and pulled him roughly into a kiss.

Will froze, his mind going completely blank. He stood there, absolutely motionless, and Hannibal pulled away. He raised an eyebrow. “It would seem to me that you cared about that slightly. Anyway. Good night.”

He turned away, and Will’s arm shot out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him sharply back towards him. Their lips met again, and this time Will was anything but motionless. His hands were everywhere – pulling at Hannibal’s hair, clawing at his neck, scratching at his back. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced so much anger and so much lust at the same time.

Hannibal’s hands were giving him the same treatment, one hand snaking up to his throat and squeezing – hard. It was only for a brief moment but it sent a shudder through Will’s entire body, and Hannibal broke away from the kiss, pulling Will’s head back roughly by his hair, exposing his throat.

“Hurt me.”

It was out of Will’s mouth before he had even realised it, breathless and panting. Hannibal regarded him for a moment, a gleam in his dark eyes, and he tugged Will’s hair again, harder this time. He set to work on Will’s neck, and his sharp teeth scraped too harshly, his mouth sucked unpleasantly on the raw skin – and Will liked it more than he could fathom.

The hand that wasn’t pulling Will’s hair went down to his crotch, swiftly getting rid of the belt and flicking open the button on his trousers. Will felt himself get weak in the knees as Hannibal snaked his hand into his underwear and wrapped it around him.

Will’s hands managed to find their way up into Hannibal’s shirt, and he clawed into his back, nails digging deep. He moved his lips back to Hannibal’s, and his knees buckled this time as Hannibal started stroking him, biting into his lip – hard – simultaneously.

Hannibal pulled away and shoved him against the desk, barely giving him time to catch his breath before he was all over him again. A low moan escaped Will’s throat and his head fell onto Hannibal’s shoulder as the latter sped up his stroking.

“God, I hate you,” Will groaned, his sentence chopped up by his haphazard breaths.

Hannibal let out a soft, cruel laugh. “No, you don’t,” he breathed into his ear.

He abruptly let go, and Will barely swallowed a whimper of loss, before he felt Hannibal’s hands pressing on his shoulders and he was suddenly down on his knees. He stared dazedly up at Hannibal, who was swiftly undoing his own buttons.

His lips were around Hannibal before he could stop and think about his actions, and he sucked, and licked, let his teeth graze with some kind of sick satisfaction. Hannibal’s hands were suddenly in his hair and the control was completely taken from him; Hannibal used his mouth however he pleased. Every time he felt he couldn’t breathe, every time Hannibal was just a tad too rough, sparks of excitement shot through him and very soon his hand was going towards his own crotch.

Hannibal came with a low, quiet moan, his hands holding Will’s head in place as the rest of his body curved slightly over him. Will felt the hot liquid run down his throat, became light-headed from the lack of air, and came quickly after, his sounds muffled.

Hannibal released him, and they were both quiet as they caught their breaths. Will stayed on his knees, not trusting himself to stand up just yet. He glanced up to see Hannibal slowly sinking to his knees before him. They both stayed silent as Hannibal took Will’s hands in his own, wiping away the mess with a tissue. Will stared as Hannibal cleaned him up with a strange… tenderness, almost. When he was done, Hannibal discarded the tissue and rose his gaze to Will’s for the first time since he had sat down.

Something strange flitted over Hannibal’s face, and he reached out a hand, carefully moving a sweaty lock of hair away from Will’s eyes. They stared at each other, almost in a daze, neither of them breaking the spell by breaking the silence.

Finally, Hannibal spoke. “Will…”

Will didn’t wait to hear whatever was to come. He could feel the icy tendrils of regret enveloping him, and he scrambled back, hastily pulling up his trousers and fixing his shirt. He stuffed his things into his bag, ignored the repeated soft mention of his name, and ran like he hadn’t run in a long time.

When he got home, he took a long, scalding shower and got very, very drunk.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Will, where are you? You stuck in traffic again or something?”

“No, no. Uh, I’m sick.”

Beverly was quiet for a second. “Oh. Shit. You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all right. Nothing unbearable. I’ll be fine soon enough.”

“Good. I could come by later? Make you my traditional ‘being sick’ meal. Mulled wine.”

Will snorted despite himself. “That actually doesn’t even sound half-bad. But honestly, I’m not sick enough for you to have to come by. Thanks, anyway.”

“Hm. Well, okay. You know what kinda sucks, though?”

“What?”

“I already got you a coffee.”

Will smiled. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll just chug both cups. Gotta go, though. Get well soon.”

“Thanks.”

Will wasn’t actually ill, of course, but he spent the day in bed nonetheless, only getting up to let his dogs out.

He wasn’t entirely sure whether last night had been a dream or not. He hoped it was. He really, really hoped it was. He hoped it so much that he was actually starting to convince himself, but then he would catch a glimpse of his neck in the bathroom mirror and that hope would be shattered.

There was no way he could let anyone at work see him like that. He was not the person to wear turtlenecks or scarves so he was kind of fucked. He wasn’t under the impression that he could stay out of work long enough for the marks to fade completely, but maybe they could fade just enough for them not to be so conspicuous anymore.

He felt them on his throat like red-hot prints of shame.

To be honest, the marks on his neck were the least of his reasons to not come into the BAU today. Obviously.

He had no fucking clue how he was ever supposed to face Hannibal after this. He felt like he had made the biggest mistake of his life. He wouldn’t be able to look at Hannibal without imagining his hand around his throat, his lips and teeth at his neck… Will’s lips around him, letting his mouth be used.

He let out a low groan of despair at the rising excitement that came with those thoughts. Never again. This was a huge mistake, and he was sure Hannibal felt the same way.

They would forget this ever happened, and move on. Go back to not liking each other and not speaking to each other and _not_ being alone in a room together.

He pressed his hands into his eyes, wishing desperately for some spontaneous amnesia. Because no matter how much he regretted it, no matter how ashamed he was of himself and what he said – there was no way he could convince himself that he hadn’t enjoyed it. Thoroughly. Immensely. Unspeakably.

And there was no way of convincing himself that, with all the aforementioned shame and regret, the emotion that reigned supreme when he thought about it was pleasure. Overwhelming, intense pleasure.

Worst of all, a thought kept creeping back into his mind, becoming more and more pronounced the more he tried to ignore it.

The thought that Hannibal may have been right. The thought that maybe Will didn’t actually hate him. And with that thought came the suggestion that instead of hate, Will was starting to feel something different regarding Hannibal. Something he was afraid to even consider, was afraid to even try and name.

Yeah, this had definitely been the biggest mistake of his life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovelies thank you for the feedback <3 sorry this one's a wee bit shorter than usual, i've had a very busy week celebrating my birthday in multiple ways with multiple friends so i only just managed to squeeze this in there  
> enjoyyyyyy <3

**Chapter 7**

Will couldn’t hide in his home forever. Realistically, he knew this.

He allowed himself two days of being ‘sick’ before forcing himself to go back into work. Jack had been nicer about it than expected, even told him to take another day off if needed, probably thinking it had to do with the case. Will had been very tempted, but he decided against it. He would have to face Hannibal at some point, there was no point in putting it off any longer.

And so, with his heart in his throat and his shoes feeling like they were filled with lead, he entered the BAU.

The day was surprisingly normal. He gave his lectures, managing to actually concentrate and forget about the incident at one point. There were no unpleasant surprises, nothing to report, either good or bad. Beverly had been by to check how he was doing, and to tell him that Jack and everyone else were afraid the new lead was going to go cold.

“You mean about the semen being different.”

Beverly nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know about you but all we’ve been able to come up with is that he placed the semen there to lead away from himself.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been able to come up with.”

“Which also doesn’t really make sense. He knew we were bound to find out about the semen at some point, right?”

“Any DNA matches?”

Beverly pursed her lips and shook her head. “Of course not,” she said sourly.

“Of course not,” Will repeated.

They shared an exasperated look.

“How’s Jack been handling it?” Will then asked.

“Exactly as you’d expect. You’re kinda lucky you were sick right after we found out.”

“I can imagine,” Will said, shaking his head.

“I get it, though. We’ve been through countless motives and nothing makes any fucking sense. I’d be going crazy if I were him. No new victims, at least. For now.”

Will agreed, having had two days to himself to ponder and think. The general air of despair was becoming more pronounced. No new victims though, as Beverly had said. Not yet.

The day had been so surprisingly normal that when someone knocked on the door at night, he called out a monotone ‘come in’ instead of suspiciously asking who it was first. That was, until the all too familiar, “Hello, Will.”

He looked up to see Hannibal standing before him, a wary expression on his face. Will bit the inside of his cheek, standing up. “I was just leaving,” he said without making eye-contact, haphazardly throwing his things together.

“No, you’re not.”

This made Will pause and he scoffed indignantly. “I think I am, actually.”

Hannibal raised his hand to show the bunch of keys dangling from his index finger. “The door is locked.”

“Where did you get my keys from?” Will spluttered, frantically patting his pockets.

“They were still in the lock,” Hannibal said with a raised eyebrow. “Not very safe, Will.”

Will faltered. “Oh.”

Hannibal slowly and deliberately pocketed the keys, nearing Will.

“What is this? What do you want?” Will asked, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers on his bicep.

“Like I said before, we need to talk. Properly, without… distractions,” Hannibal replied calmly.

Will twitched at the last word, and he turned around, pretending to arrange the stuff on his desk. “So, what, you’re holding me hostage until we have a conversation?” he scoffed.

“Yes,” Hannibal said simply.

Will paused, deflated, and turned around to face him again. “Really?” he said, exasperated.

“Really.”

Will heaved a great sigh, leaned his head backwards so he was staring at the ceiling. “So talk,” he said after a long silence.

Hannibal cleared his throat. “May I sit?”

Will shrugged, gesturing at the couple of chairs opposite his desk.

“Please, Will. Sit down,” Hannibal said quietly, and Will looked at him before slowly complying.

He leaned his head in his hand as they looked at each other from opposite sides of the desk, a strange fluttering feeling in Will’s stomach when their eyes met. Hannibal took a breath.

“First of all, what happened the last time you and I saw each other –”

“Was a mistake, never to happen again,” Will said quickly, eyes downcast.

Hannibal was silent for a moment. “If that is how you really feel –”

“It is.”

He heard Hannibal sigh very quietly, and he glanced upwards curiously. Hannibal was regarding him with an odd expression on his face. He seemed to be having an internal debate, and they were both silent for a while.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Hannibal finally murmured, and Will felt something twitch within him.

“Why, did you…? What… what are you trying to say?” Will stammered, feeling suddenly very different from how he felt when Hannibal walked in.

Hannibal gave him a small smile. “Will, I wanted to talk to you because I want this dislike you have for me to end. Properly, this time.”

Will snorted. “You’re saying that as if you have no dislike for me.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “I don’t.”

Will blinked. “That’s just not true. You might not show it like I do, but there’s no way –“

“Will, the last time I disliked you was when you knocked over my wine at the restaurant.”

“Your… wine?” Will said slowly.

Hannibal smiled. “Yes. On that night we are never to talk about. Do you remember?”

Of course he remembered. “Yes.”

Hannibal nodded. “I have not disliked you since then.”

Will was quiet for a moment, his mind racing. “What were you doing at the bridge?”

Hannibal tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“The bridge. Where I – you know. What were you even doing there?”

Hannibal looked at him, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “I was on my way home, Will.”

Will shook his head. “No. No, I remember you walking back the way you came. You did follow me, didn’t you?”

Hannibal was quiet for a few long minutes, staring at him with an indecipherable expression before letting out a soft laugh and leaning back. “Well, aren’t you perceptive.” There was a gleam in his eyes, almost admiring.

Will held his gaze, heart beating fast for reasons he didn’t know. “So?” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “What were you doing?”

Hannibal chuckled quietly. “To be quite honest, I was going to confront you about how rude you had been to me at the restaurant. Obviously, when I saw what you were doing, or about to do, that was quickly forgotten.”

Will scratched at his neck, saw Hannibal’s glance towards it and quickly stopped, remembering the faint marks which could only be noticed by someone who already knew they were there. “Confront me?”

Hannibal gave a nod. “Yes. It might have been somewhat petty, but I have to say I’m happy I did follow you.”

Will snorted. “Yeah, good thing you did. Who knows what anyone would have done without my charm, kind spirit and optimism.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “I know a lot of people would have greatly missed your sarcasm, cleverness and stubbornness.”

Will felt a wry smile tug on his lips despite himself. “Only one of those was a compliment.”

Hannibal smiled back. “They were all meant as compliments.”

“You must be great at dates.”

“I am. Let me show you.”

Will crossed his arms, let out a baffled laugh. “Jesus Christ.”

Hannibal leaned forward, a small smile still tugging at his lips. “I’m serious. Let me cook you dinner.”

Will let out another laugh. “Not in a million years.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like you, remember?”

“So let me change that. Will, I think you and I… I think we have a lot in common. More than you know.”

“I doubt that,” Will said quietly, not entirely believing his own words.

“And I am quite sure. Have dinner with me.”

“No,” Will murmured, watching as Hannibal stood and slowly walked around the table.

Hannibal’s hand went to his cheek, and he flinched, making Hannibal pause. When Will didn’t move away, he reached out his hand again, trailed his knuckles across Will’s cheekbones.

“Have dinner with me,” Hannibal said quietly.

“No,” Will whispered.

Hannibal’s thumb stroked lightly across his bottom lip, and Will’s lips parted with a soft exhalation. His thumb gently edged into his mouth.

“Have dinner with me,” Hannibal breathed, leaning down, and suddenly Will’s hands were on Hannibal’s arms, his nails digging as he clung on almost desperately.

Will took a breath to reply when –

Hurried footsteps from the hallway. A door slamming.

They broke apart, sharing a look of confusion.

“I didn’t think anyone else was still here this late,” Will said, frowning.

“Neither did I. Stay here, I’ll take a look.”

Will ignored this, standing up and following as Hannibal unlocked the door to the hallway. It was completely dark, the silence almost deafening as they stared into the blackness.

“Do you hear anything?” Will breathed.

Hannibal shook his head, raised his forefinger to his lips. He started walking along the hallway, Will following him. They both looked around corners and into bathrooms, tried a few offices. Nothing. Eventually they returned to Will’s classroom, both letting out a breath when the door shut.

“I didn’t imagine that, right? There was definitely someone there?” Will said, running his hand through his hair.

Hannibal shook his head. “You didn’t imagine it. They either did a very good job at hiding, or a very good job at leaving.”

Will shook his head. “I think that’s our cue to leave as well.” He felt unreasonably on edge.

Hannibal nodded in agreement, handing over Will’s keys with a wry smile. Will snatched them from him, turning around quickly to pack his things. “You’ve finally had your talk. Was it worth locking me in?”

“Absolutely,” Hannibal said solemnly.

Will rolled his eyes, and they left, Will locking his classroom behind him. He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder every now and then, and as reluctant as he was to admit it, he was glad to have Hannibal there beside him in the darkness.

Eventually, they made their way outside, and they both paused at the door. The cold air bit at Will’s exposed skin, and he pulled the collar of his jacket up, trying to bury his neck in it.

“What is your answer?”

Will looked at him with a frown, although he knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

Hannibal smiled indulgently. “Have dinner with me.”

Will groaned, although he didn’t feel as annoyed as he was making it seem. “If I do this, will you stop bugging me?”

“I can’t promise anything. But I certainly will try,” Hannibal said with raised eyebrows.

Will rolled his eyes. “Fucking fine.”

Hannibal nodded. “I’ll accept that.”

“One dinner. If I still don’t like you after that, you leave me alone.”

“I’ll leave you alone,” Hannibal agreed.

“Good. See you,” Will said, turning away.

“Will, wait,” Hannibal said quietly.

He turned back, curious. “What?”

Hannibal was quiet for a few moments, seemingly in thought. He took a quiet breath. “For some reason I cannot quite name, it has become somewhat important to me that you stay alive.”

Will tensed. “And?” he said quietly.

“I suppose I am asking if that will be the case.”

Will swallowed harshly. “You’re asking me if I’m going to try and kill myself again.”

Hannibal sought out his gaze and nodded. “Crudely put, but yes.”

Will took a breath. “Not in the foreseeable future, no.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound very certain.”

Will scoffed bitterly. “It’s not. But that’s all I can give you.”

“All right. Then I suppose it will have to do.”

“If I do, I’ll make sure it’s somewhere you won’t be able to interrupt me again,” Will then said with a lopsided grin which faltered when he saw it wasn’t being returned.

“If you do, I’ll make sure to interrupt you again. Whatever you try and whenever you try it,” Hannibal murmured.

Will blinked. “Since when has my not committing suicide become so important to you?”

“Since that day in Jack’s office. Good night, Will.”

“Hang on,” Will said abruptly, his hand shooting out to grab Hannibal’s sleeve – before remembering the last time he did that and quickly letting go.

Hannibal looked at him expectantly. Will leaned forward, took the time to choose his words.

“Don’t mistake this for naivety. I’m giving you a chance to show me you aren’t the person I think you are. But I know you’re hiding something. And whatever it is, I intend to find out,” Will then said quietly.

Hannibal stared at him before a slow grin spread on his face, his sharp canines gleaming in the low light of the streetlamps. He leaned forward, still gazing intensely. “I sincerely hope you do,” he said quietly.

With that, Hannibal left him standing at the door, getting into his car and driving away. Will stood there for a few moments, running his hands through his hair and wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.

He couldn’t fully convince himself that he had imagined the careful footsteps in the dark when he made his way to his car, unfortunately.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He woke up the next morning with a strange sense of doom. It was Saturday, and normally he would wake up feeling relieved he didn’t have to go to work. Instead, he felt anxious, on edge, and somewhere he knew that something bad was about to happen.

He didn’t know whether it had to do with Hannibal or the case or both, but he felt something was off, later being able to convince himself he was being silly and ignoring the feeling.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovelies!! thank you for the feedback as aaaalways & yes i know this is ridiculously late but i've been in an odd state of mind lately bc of life changes and it's been difficult af to write  
> anyway i hope y'all enjoy <3

**Chapter 8**

Will was being paranoid. He was seeing things. He was hallucinating again. He must be.

Because what reason would there be for everyone to be staring at him on this perfectly normal Monday morning?

He looked around, completely bewildered, not understanding the hushed voices and pointed looks his way. When he arrived at his classroom, Jack was standing in front of the door.

“Class is canceled. My office,” he said curtly, leaving no room for argument.

Will followed, trying to catch up with Jack’s giant strides. “Jack, what the hell is going on? Why is everyone looking at me like I started shitting rainbows or something?”

Jack gave him an odd look but didn’t reply. Instead, he closed the office door behind him and grabbed his laptop, turning it around so Will could see.

“Care to explain?”

Will blinked, his vision getting blurry as he stared at the words on the screen without really registering them. His heart dropped to his stomach. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. There was no fucking way.

**‘SUICIDAL FBI PROFILER ASSIGNED TO CRADLE SNATCHER CASE’**

Jack, when seeing that he wasn’t going to get a reaction from Will, turned the laptop back around and started to read. “’Will Graham, FBI profiler and consultant, is assigned to catching the horrifying Cradle Snatcher while having tried to commit suicide only weeks ago. Graham has been the subject of speculation before within the FBI, mostly because of his unorthodox, and sometimes downright disturbing –‘”

“Stop,” Will muttered.

“’The question arises, did Graham try to commit suicide because the Cradle Snatcher’s murders are too much? Or is it because maybe Graham is only able to catch all those killers because he himself has these urges and –‘”

“Stop,” Will snarled.

Jack looked at him, slowly closing the laptop. “It says here you overdosed.”

“Jesus.”

“So it’s not true then?”

“No,” Will snapped.

“The overdose isn’t true, or this whole thing isn’t true?” Jack asked quietly.

Will swallowed and looked away. His hands were shaking violently, and he stuffed them into his pockets.

“Fuck, Will,” Jack muttered, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his neck.

“Look, it’s not what it seems, okay? It was a… a spur of the moment thing, I wasn’t –”

“A spur of the moment decision to kill yourself?” Jack suddenly roared, slamming his hands on the table. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Will snarled. “That’s kind of the thing with trying to kill yourself –”

“Stop,” Jack said then, closing his eyes. “Do I need to take action, Will?”

“No,” Will said quickly. “No. Jack, listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“It… it was… something I considered. But I changed my mind. I didn’t go through with it, okay?”

“How were you going to do it?”

Will shook his head. “I’m not comfortable telling you that. It wasn’t an overdose, anyway.”

Jack took a deep breath, and was quiet for a long time. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Does that really need explaining?”

“No, not even that you tried it. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? Why didn’t you come and talk to me?”

Will bit the inside of his cheek. “What difference would it have made?” he asked quietly.

“I would have known, Will. I could have… helped, in some way. You didn’t need to go through that alone.” Jack sounded sadder than Will had ever heard him, and he looked away, running his hands through his hair.

“I just… didn’t think it mattered,” he finally said, not knowing what else to say.

Jack looked at him, silent. Will felt itchy under his gaze. Jack abruptly stood and started pacing around his office, Will looking at him wordlessly.

After a while, Jack sat down again, a determined expression on his face. “This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to stay away from here for a while.”

“Jack, no –”

“I’m not taking you off the case. You still have access to files, crime scenes. Just… take a small break from coming to the BAU for a couple of weeks. Until all this dies down. You can come in after hours, obviously, but not when there’s other people here.”

“What?”

“We’re going to say it was lies. All lies. Freddie Lounds is known to spew bullshit, this is no different. You’ve taken a break to recover from the social backlash. You’ve done this out of your own volition. After those couple of weeks, you come back like nothing happened. If anyone asks about it, none of it was true and Lounds was trying to get you kicked out of the BAU because she simply doesn’t like you.”

Will blinked, reeling from the words. “You… you’re going to cover for me?”

Jack nodded grimly. “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You tell me when things are too much. You come to my office, and you tell me, and we talk about it. Got it?”

Will swallowed harshly before nodding. “Yeah.”

“All right. I’m risking a lot by lying for you. Please don’t let that be for nothing.”

Will shook his head. “I won’t.”

Jack nodded once. “Good. Go home, Will. Before Katz catches you.”

Will looked up at him. “Oh god,” he muttered, having forgotten that his friends were most likely also aware.

“One last thing,” Jack said when Will reached the door, “how the hell did Lounds find out?”

Will shook his head. “I have no idea.”

That was a lie. He did have an idea, and his blood was boiling as he set out to find the only person who knew about any of this.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He was so focused on getting to his car and driving to Hannibal’s office that he didn’t notice the hand shooting out and grabbing his collar, almost choking him in the process.

“Jesus!” he yelled, turning to see a very angry looking Beverly staring at him. “Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, indeed,” she said, her voice dangerously quiet. “Care for a cup of coffee, Will?”

“I was actually just…”

“I don’t give a single shit. Outside. Now.”

He reluctantly followed her to their bench, waited as she sat down beside him in silence.

“We don’t have any –”

“Shut up for a second,” Beverly interrupted.

Will nodded, staring at his coffee-less hands. He could see her trying to compose herself, trying to find the right words.

“Should I just start talking?” he asked quietly after a long silence.

She nodded, crossing her arms. Will took a breath.

“It was a while ago. I didn’t go through with it. The case just… it was too much for me, and I just lost it. Like I said, I didn’t go through with it. Changed my mind. I know I should have talked to you, of course I do. I’m really fucking sorry I didn’t. But I didn’t want anyone to know. I felt like it would cause more damage than it was worth. I’m sorry.”

Beverly was quiet for a long time, and Will was starting to get worried when she let out a big breath and leaned back. “Will, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I know.”

“Is it true? That you –”

“I didn’t overdose, no. I don’t know how the fuck she came up with that.”

“Then… then what?”

Will shook his head. “I don’t –”

“Yeah, okay. On second thought, I don’t even wanna know. Are you going to try again?”

Will shook his head again slowly. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Beverly nodded, running her hands through her hair. “Good. Jesus.” She suddenly turned and punched him on the arm. “That’s for even fucking thinking about it in the first place.”

Will nodded, rubbing his arm. “I deserved that.” He pretended not to see the tears Beverly was furiously trying to blink away.

“How could you not tell me?” she then asked, looking up to the sky. “I get that you didn’t want anyone to know, but… it’s me, Will.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“Would you… would you have told me eventually, if Lounds hadn’t…?”

“Yes,” Will lied. “Once we caught the killer, once everything had quietened down.”

Beverly nodded, sniffing. “Look, Will. I’m not… mad that you… of course I’m not. I’m just… it feels really shitty that you didn’t think you could trust me enough to confide in me.”

“No, Beverly, it wasn’t a matter of trust. I just didn’t want to worry you.”

“Of course I’m fucking worried! And I had to find out about it through a fucking tabloid reporter? Fucking hell, Will!”

“I know. If I could change things, I would.”

Beverly sighed quietly. “Yeah.”

“Beverly, I know this is a lot to ask but… don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

She gave a bitter snort. “Everyone knows, Will.”

Will winced. “I know. But Jack’s going to tell everyone it’s bullshit. That Lounds made the whole thing up. So even Zeller and Price –”

“Can’t know. Okay. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry everyone knows. That sucks fucking ass.”

Will nodded, his nails digging into his palms. “It does.”

“I should get going.”

Will nodded. “All right.”

They stood, and Beverly suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. “Don’t do that ever again,” she whispered.

Will shook his head. “I won’t.”

She pulled away, wiping hastily at her face. “See you around, Graham.”

Will watched her go, not being able to help the awful feeling he had just permanently damaged their friendship.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He wasted no time in leaping out of his car, storming to the door and knocking viciously, a strong parallel to how he’d acted the last time he’d been here. Hannibal opened the door with a bewildered look on his face, and Will ignored his questions when he pushed him aside and strode into the hallway.

“Will, what’s the matter? Has something happened?” Hannibal asked urgently, mistaking Will’s actions for panic.

“Yeah, something’s the fucking matter. Great story you gave to Freddie Lounds, there. Really impressive. She did it justice,” Will spat, clenching his fists to stop himself from punching something.

“Will, what are you talking about?” Hannibal asked calmly, his demeanor changing.

“You know what I’m talking about. Haven’t checked Tattlecrime yet? I’d expect you to be keeping tabs.”

“Will, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. Freddie Lounds wrote something?”

Will swallowed and ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, she wrote about me trying to kill myself,” he snarled, his voice breaking despite himself. “And don’t try and act like you had nothing to do with it. Not a single mention of you, of course, while you played a pretty crucial role.”

Hannibal went very still. “She what?” he asked flatly.

“Yeah, she went and wrote about how I tried to kill myself, and everyone has fucking read it. Everyone knows. Everyone…” he trailed off, biting his lip so hard he felt the skin break.

“Will,” Hannibal said slowly, nearing him. “I had nothing to do with that.”

Will backed away, his arms crossed as he leaned his back against the wall. “Hannibal, you’re the only way she could possibly know.”

Hannibal continued to near him, putting his hand on his arm. “I promise you. I haven’t told a soul, and I never will. I promise you, Will.”

Will stared at him, frowning before finally nodding. “Okay,” he muttered. “Okay.”

He rubbed his eyes, trying to rub away the tears that were threatening to spill over. “Then how…?” he whispered.

“I haven’t yet seen the article. Let me read it first,” Hannibal murmured, his fingers rubbing gently along the inside of Will’s wrist.

“No,” Will said abruptly. “Don’t read it.”

The corner of Hannibal’s mouth rose slightly. “Will, there’s nothing I could read about you that would change how I feel. Besides, I know better than to take Freddie Lounds seriously.”

Will swallowed before nodding slowly. Hannibal carefully led him to the office, one hand on the small of his back. “Let me get you a drink.”

Will nodded shakily, sitting down on one of the chairs. After a few moments Hannibal returned with a glass of whiskey which Will accepted gratefully.

Hannibal picked up the iPad lying on the desk, sitting down on the other chair as he went to the Tattlecrime page and opened the article. Will couldn’t look at him as he read it, instead staring at the inside of his glass.

“Well,” Hannibal finally said, putting the iPad away, “what an absolutely vile article.”

Will glanced up to see Hannibal sitting perfectly calm, and yet he could see he was furious. The corners of his eyes were tightened, his jaw was set and his posture was rigid. That was enough to clear any residual doubts Will had.

“You said that everyone has read this?”

Will nodded glumly. “I got a lot of stares this morning.”

Hannibal shook his head, looking away, seemingly composing himself. “This is unacceptable,” he said quietly.

“I just don’t get how she could have–“

“Friday evening. We heard footsteps, remember?”

Will stared at him, the realisation of this hitting him like a slap in the face. “She must have hidden outside somewhere while we were talking at the door.”

Hannibal nodded in agreement. “I should have known.”

Will frowned. “How?”

“Miss Lounds will stop at nothing to get a story, and quite frankly, Will, she’s not very fond of you. I’m sure she’d do anything to make your life difficult.”

“Yeah, sure, I get that. But… and don’t take this the wrong way – you were the one who made her hand over her bag and delete the recording. You exposed her as being Lounds in the first place. Why not target you as well?”

“I think,” Hannibal said calmly, “I think somewhere, some part of her realises what I am capable of.”

Will stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, Will scoffed and downed his drink, storing that comment away for later.

“What did Jack think?” Hannibal asked before Will could pass comment.

Will let out a breath. “Yeah, about that. I’m not to be seen at the BAU for a couple of weeks.”

“You haven’t—”

“No, I haven’t been kicked off the case. Jack’s telling everyone it’s bullshit. So I hope it’ll blow over soon.”

“You shouldn’t be punished for Lounds’ actions.”

“Well. I guess I got off lightly, all things considered. Jack could have also ordered a psych eval and who knows what would have happened then.”

Hannibal shook his head wordlessly. Will sniffed, rubbing at his eyes before standing up.

“I’m gonna go. Maybe I can even catch up on some sleep.”

Hannibal nodded. “I would invite you to stay, but—”

“You have patients to see. And I would have refused, anyway. One dinner, remember.” Will gave a bitter smile.

Hannibal gave a wry smile back. “That, too.”

“Well, my schedule has suddenly cleared up for the next two weeks, so.”

Hannibal tilted his head, a concerned look on his face. “You aren’t allowed to work the case at all?”

“No, I am. I was just being dramatic.”

Hannibal smiled, an odd look on his face. “You have every right to be.”

Will raised his eyebrows, turning away. “Right. Well, see you.”

He left the office feeling strangely better. Obviously because he knew it wasn’t Hannibal, but also for reasons he didn’t really know.

He decided to ignore that, for now. He would go home and take the first nap he had taken in ages.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the feedback, enjoy babes <3

**Chapter 9**

Will woke up to knocking at his door. He groggily clambered out of bed, pulling on a T-shirt before stumbling to the door, doing his best to avoid stepping on his dogs. He opened the door and was immediately awake.

Alana stood before him, clutching a wrapped bottle and looking at him with an uncertain smile. “I have no idea what kind of gift is appropriate for a situation like this, but I figured you like whiskey so I guessed it would be okay.”

She handed him the bottle. Will didn’t take it from her. “I haven’t heard from you in months.”

Alana pursed her lips. “I know. Can I come in?”

Will thought about it for a moment, then turned and stepped inside, leaving the door open for Alana to follow. She set the bottle down on the counter, bending down to greet the dogs.

“What are you doing here?” Will asked quietly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Alana took a breath, but Will interrupted before she could reply. “Wait. Dumb question. You saw the article.”

She nodded slowly.

“So I don’t hear anything from you for almost a year, and you decide that now’s a good time to drop by?” Will said, shaking his head.

“Will, I’m sorry I was quiet for so long. I figured… after everything that happened between us, it would be better for me to distance myself for a while,” Alana said with a quiet sigh.

“So why come back?” Will said bitterly.

“Will, how could I not?” Alana exclaimed. “What Lounds wrote about you… was awful. I’m so, so sorry that happened. And… I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Maybe… maybe things would have –”

“Stop,” Will interjected. “Don’t even think about implying that if you had been there, it would have stopped me from… doing that.”

Alana sat down heavily. “But I should have –”

“No, Alana,” Will said quietly. “No. This had nothing to do with you, and you being there wouldn’t have changed a thing. This was all me.”

She swallowed harshly. “Still. I should have been there. I should have been your friend. I’m sorry.”

He saw her blinking away tears and he turned away, grabbing two mugs. “Coffee?”

He glanced back to see her nodding, and suddenly realised he was standing in his underwear. “I’ll… be right back.”

He went to his room and quickly pulled on some jeans before returning to the kitchen. They were quiet as Will poured them both coffee and set the mugs down on the kitchen table, sitting opposite her. He took a deep breath.

“So. How have you been?”

Alana snorted, taking a sip of coffee. “I’ve been fine, Will. Busy.”

Will nodded. “Seeing anyone?”

Alana gave a small smile and looked down into her mug. “Yes. You?”

“…No.”

Alana raised an eyebrow. “Was that hesitation in your voice?”

“No, it wasn’t. Is he nice?”

“She’s wonderful.”

They were quiet again, neither of them knowing quite what to say. Alana took a breath. “Jack told me about… the way he’s handling it.”

Will paused. “To be honest, Alana… I’m surprised he’s told you.”

She nodded. “I understand. And a year ago, I would have demanded you get pulled from the case – at least. But… I’m trying to be different. Towards you. I know that I try to help people, to… fix them. It’s what I do, and it’s what has made so many of my relationships unsuccessful. So now… if you decide that this is what’s best for you, I support that.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “Thanks,” he said slowly.

Alana let out a laugh. “It doesn’t sound like you believe me. Which I understand.”

Will gave a shrug. “Guess I’ll have to see.”

Alana smiled and put a hand on his arm. “Guess I’ll have to show you.”

Will chuckled, taken aback. Alana held his gaze, hers turning more serious.

“So, I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that it happened partly because of the case,” she then said quietly.

Will sniffed, taking a gulp of coffee. “You would be right.”

She sighed quietly, and before she could speak Will said, “I understand Jack asked you to consult?”

Alana scoffed. “Oh, yes. More than once,” she said bitterly. “I understand he was – is – desperate, and needs all the help he can get, but I have my limits, and this case is one of them.”

“I don’t blame you,” Will said honestly.

“Jack’s told me Dr. Hannibal Lecter is now the consulting psychiatrist.”

“Yeah. He told me you know each other.”

Alana gave a small smile, looking away. “We do. Well, if anyone can help you, it’ll be him.”

Will looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “Did you and him…?”

Alana cleared her throat, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her dress. “Not really. I don’t know. Anyway, that was a long time ago.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “Huh.”

Alana changed the subject, and after an hour or so declared she’d better leave. “Please remember that I’m here if you need me. Just because I took a step back doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you. I’m only a phone call away.”

Will forced a smile and nodded, and before he could register what was happening, Alana leaned in and pecked him on the cheek.

“Bye, Will. Speak to you soon,” she murmured before turning around and getting into her car.

Will watched her drive away, his heart heavy.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

His phone rang, and Will looked at it for a moment, taking a while to register the sound. It was Hannibal. He hesitated before picking up. “Hello.”

“Hello, Will. How are you?”

Will grimaced at the question. The past few days had been lived in a strange kind of isolation, his only activities being walking with the dogs and working on the case. Alana’s visit had briefly broken that isolation, but afterwards, for some reason, he had felt more lonely than ever. He wasn’t used to doing nothing, not going to work and giving lectures. Jack had kept him relatively updated – which was to say, there was absolutely nothing. No surprises there.

“Fine. Working on the case.” As much as he could.

“I see. Care for some company?”

Will glanced at the time. It was almost nine o’clock. “Bit late for a dinner. I’ve eaten.”

Hannibal chuckled quietly. “I will be a lot more evident when I ask you to have dinner with me. I was only wondering if you would like to look over the case together, as I suppose we should be doing.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck, considering this. “All right. Sure. But I’ve had a couple of drinks, so I can’t drive to yours.”

“Not a problem. I’ll see you shortly.”

With that, Hannibal hung up. Will sighed, tossing the phone onto the couch. He blamed the easy acceptance for Hannibal coming over on his being slightly intoxicated.

As promised, Hannibal showed up not too long after, by which time Will had had the opportunity to sober up a little. He opened the door to Hannibal holding two coffee flasks. Will raised his eyebrows.

“I figured we would need some coffee,” Hannibal said with a smile.

“I have coffee here, you know,” Will said.

“I know. Just as I know that I have better coffee,” Hannibal replied with a smirk, and Will rolled his eyes, stepping aside to let him in.

“You’re probably right,” he muttered, walking to the living room. “Although I think one flask would have been enough.”

“I thought a flask each would be more convenient, especially considering how long we usually work on the case.”

Will shrugged, reaching out to take the flask Hannibal extended to him. “Fair enough. How are things at the BAU?”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, taking his coat off and looking around. Will realised with a strange feeling that this was the first time Hannibal had been inside his home. “Different, without you. Otherwise, no progress with the case. People are starting to talk less.”

“I heard as much from Jack.” He thought Hannibal was handling the pack of dogs particularly well, even leaning down and petting them which looked especially strange from him.

“Right. I forgot to warn you about them,” Will said gruffly.

Hannibal looked up at him and smiled, causing Will’s stomach to flutter. “No problem at all. Somewhere, I expected it of you.”

Will raised an eyebrow, wryly amused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hannibal straightened and brushed down his trousers, shrugging. “Have you made more progress than Jack and his team?”

Will deflated and sat down, taking a sip of the coffee. It was a lot better than his own. “No, I don’t think so.”

Hannibal nodded, sitting down next to him. “Maybe we’ll have more luck together.”

“Alana came to visit me.” He didn’t know why he said it, and he avoided Hannibal’s eyes as he did so.

“Is that so?” Hannibal replied, his voice conveying nothing but polite interest.

“Yeah. I hadn’t heard from her in quite a while, but after Lounds’ article…” he trailed off.

“I understand. How is Dr. Bloom?”

Will crossed his arms and leaned back. “She’s good. Did you two date?” Again, he didn’t know why he said it.

Hannibal took a while to answer, and he took another gulp of coffee.

“I wouldn’t really call it that. It had the potential, but it never became that,” Hannibal finally replied calmly. “Why do you ask?”

Will shrugged, a weird feeling settling in his stomach. “Just wondering.”

Before he could properly register what was happening, Hannibal’s hand was on his knee, squeezing gently. “Is it something you are worried about?”

Will stiffened, half of him wanting to put his own hand on Hannibal’s, the other wanting to brush it off. “No.”

Hannibal removed his hand, giving him a soft smile. “Good. Because there is nothing to worry about.”

Will scoffed. “I don’t know why you’d think I’d be worried in the first place. I don’t care what you’ve done or what you do.”

Hannibal nodded. “Understood.”

Will glared at him, having the strong feeling he was being mocked. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. I understand and accept your indifference.”

Will continued to glare, but Hannibal’s solemn look didn’t waver. Eventually, Will gave up and looked away. “Great. Glad we’re on the same page.”

“I agree. Shall we proceed with the case?” Hannibal asked brightly, gesturing to the files strewn across the table.

Will grit his teeth, not quite understanding why he was so frustrated, but did as Hannibal suggested. He was finding it rather difficult to concentrate, to his dismay, and he realised that this was the first time the two of them had done this since… the event.

After two hours or so, after the coffee was long gone and Will was reaching his limit – of what, he didn’t know, but his palms were sweating and his heart was beating rapidly – Hannibal suggested to call it a day. Will agreed hastily, thinking that the faster Hannibal was out of his house, the better.

Hannibal left him with an odd smile and a sudden gently brush of fingertips on his cheekbone.

That night, Will tossed and turned, seeing a tall, terrifying creature at the edge of his bed; ink-black with white eyes, a disproportionately long body and great antlers rising from its head. He wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep during this, only knowing that when he closed his eyes his nightmares were just as unsettling.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The next day, Will awoke feeling like he hadn’t slept a wink. The world seemed slightly off, and he didn’t know if it was because of the antlered creature he’d seen at the foot of his bed or because of the continuous nightmares he’d had.

Either he was having very vivid dreams, or the hallucinations were returning. He stubbornly decided on the former.

He fed the dogs and let them out, took a long shower, and had a coffee while staring into space. His phone rang, and he glanced at it to see that it was Jack. Either he was calling to check on how he was doing, or something had happened.

His guess went to the latter. Not that Jack hadn’t been calling to see how he was – uncharacteristically often – but he would do that in the evenings, after he was done with work. Will still didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Hell—”

“Will, there’s another body. I’ve called you before letting anyone know so you can have a look without the bullshit.”

“…Okay.”

“I’m on my way to your house, be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes.”

Before Will had the chance to reply, Jack had hung up. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the scene that was about to come.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

A boy, aged about seven, with his heart in his hands. His lower body was on the couch in the living room, his upper body hanging above his bed, tied with rope. Again, there was semen. In the corner of the bedroom, a smoky, pitch-black figure with antlers rising out of its head and white eyes boring into his skull.

Again, a crime with motive, he said. This child was disgusting and deserved to be treated so. But, frustratingly for Jack and even more so for him, the reasoning behind this was as unclear as ever.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Hey, Beverly.”

“Hi. Calling to let you know that we found shrapnel in the boy’s hair.”

Will went still. “Sorry?”

“I know. A lead. A fucking lead.”

“I don’t – why would he be getting sloppy all of a sudden?”

“Fuck if I know. All I care about is finding out where the shrapnel comes from. I’ll call you as soon as we find something.”

It didn’t make sense. The killer had been meticulous in covering his tracks up until now. He wouldn’t suddenly be leaving clues. Unless he wanted them to find him, which didn’t make sense either.

A small part of him hoped, although he knew it was too good to be true, that the killer had had enough. That he wanted to be caught, that he wanted to stop all this violence and wanted help.

He seriously doubted it, though.

Then why leave something behind?

Before he knew what he was doing, he was dialing Hannibal’s number.

“Hello, Will.”

“…Hi. I… I thought—Have you—”

“Yes, I know of the victim. I also know about the shrapnel found in his hair. I assume you have visited the crime scene before any of us?”

“Yes.”

“You want to discuss the sudden evidence.”

“…Yes.”

“What do you think of it, Will?”

“I think… I think he did it on purpose. Either to send us on a wild goose chase, or because he legitimately wants to be caught and be stopped.”

“What do you think is more likely?”

“The former,” Will said reluctantly.

Hannibal was quiet for a moment. “I agree, unfortunately.”

Will grimaced. He was hoping he wouldn’t. For some reason, Hannibal agreeing with him made it seem a lot more likely.

“Still, it might lead us closer to him. Try not to lose hope, Will.”

“I lost hope a long time ago,” Will snapped before he could stop himself.

“If you really meant that, you wouldn’t still be working on this case,” Hannibal replied calmly.

“What about the sense of… obligation?” Will said flatly, running his hands through his hair.

“I am convinced that that wouldn’t be enough for you to keep working this particular case. You know we will find him eventually.”

“That’s what I thought about the Chesapeake Ripper, and he’s disappeared off the face of the earth again.”

Hannibal was quiet for a minute. “That sounds quite in character for him.”

“Yeah, but Jack and I had convinced ourselves that we were going to find him before that. You can see how that worked out.”

“I am confident that you will have better luck this time. There are not many like the Chesapeake Ripper, after all.”

Will sighed. “True enough.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The shrapnel led them to a construction site, which led them to an unfinished and long untouched warehouse. Jack had called Will, telling him fuck it, he was supposed to be taking a break for a while longer but he wanted him to be there. So Will joined the team and Hannibal, who offered him a coffee as they drove, and as they came up to the warehouse Will got an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Something was off, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Jack and the team entered first as Will and Hannibal waited outside. After some minutes, the area had been cleared, as Will had feared but expected. Jack called him inside.

He slowly entered the warehouse, feeling like he was treading through water. It was completely empty, although the dust had been unsettled and there were smudges where it had been disturbed.

And on the middle of the ground, surrounded by a team of FBI agents, lay a cd with something written on the cover. Will glanced at Jack, who gave a curt nod, and he approached it, picking it up and reading the writing.

_PLAY ME_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for the kudos, comments and bookmarks, enjoy!!

**Chapter 10**

The three of them sat in Jack’s office, a strange, wary atmosphere in the room. Will couldn’t tell if he was more excited or more nervous about what would be on the cd. Excited because this was it, the killer was leaving them a clue. Nervous because whatever they were going to hear was not going to be pleasant.

“Are you sure you don’t want the team to be here when we first listen to it?” Hannibal asked quietly.

Jack shook his head. “No. I want your impressions of it first. Ready?”

Will nodded, although his hands were trembling and it felt like he was going to vomit. He froze when he felt Hannibal discreetly put a hand on his. He didn’t pull away.

Jack put the cd into his laptop. They waited for a few seconds, and then the voices began.

Or rather, the voice, and a distorted sound that was talking to it.

They listened for a few short minutes before Will reached over and violently closed the laptop. “I think we’ve heard enough.”

Jack gave a nod and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He was quiet for a while. “Thoughts?”

Will gave a disgusted scoff and glanced at Hannibal. The latter was staring at the closed laptop, frowning. Will steeled himself and took a breath.

“We need to get the parents involved to identify which one of the children it is.”

Jack nodded grimly. “That’s not going to be pleasant.”

Will shook his head. “Don’t let them hear the entire thing. They’ve had to live through the murder of their children, never mind a recording of… that.”

“Play it again,” Hannibal said quietly.

Will and Jack looked at him. “What?” Will said.

“Play it again,” Hannibal repeated. “I thought I heard something around the third minute. You may leave, if you wish.”

Jack sniffed and nodded, opening the laptop again. Will swallowed harshly and leaned back against the chair, his arms crossed. Jack turned the laptop towards Hannibal, who skipped toward where he wanted. He played it, then paused it.

“There. Hear that? At the end of the sentence.”

The child was asking for whoever it was to stop, and sure enough, when Will strained his ears, he heard the end of her sentence being distorted. It was hard to hear, since half of the recording was distorted, but it was there.

“It’s someone the child knows,” Will said quietly.

Hannibal nodded. “Someone they call by name in the recording, a name the family would recognise.”

This wasn’t particularly odd, as in most cases it was someone the victim knows, but Will felt like they had ruled out that possibility.

“We’ve checked out all the possible common connections between the victims. There are none,” Jack said firmly.

“Despite that, it’s still someone they know. And it’s a short name. Is there any way we can clear up the audio?”

“I’ll have people look into it. I’m not sure, though. Anything else?”

Will bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. “He didn’t record the murder. Just… the assault. That’s what he’s putting the focus on.”

“The sexual assault is more important to him,” Hannibal agreed. “He has a message, and the assault of the children is the most important part of that message.”

“Is that what he enjoys the most?” Jack asked darkly.

Will narrowed his eyes. “No, I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t think he enjoys it. I think he feels… like it’s something he has to do. Something he has no choice in.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s not enjoying these murders, Jack. He wants to stop, he just doesn’t know how.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Will, a moment?”

Will turned to see Hannibal following him outside. “Yeah?”

Hannibal opened his mouth, then seemed to change his mind as to what he wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. I just listened to a child getting violated, so I’m feeling fucking great.”

Hannibal nodded. “That was… particularly difficult to hear. I can’t imagine what it was like with your empathy.”

Will swallowed down the bile that had risen up to his throat. “Yeah. I wasn’t trying to linger on that.”

“I understand. Would you like to talk about it?”

Will took a breath, trying to bite down the immediate hostile reaction. “No. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You know, bottling things up will only have negative consequences in the future,” Hannibal said with a wry smile.

“Yeah, well, I’m willing to risk it. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to ask you if we could have dinner tomorrow –”

Will gave him a confused look at the abrupt stop, then followed his cold gaze to see Freddie Lounds leaning against Will’s car. He felt himself go cold and before he knew what he was doing he was striding over to her, Hannibal hot on his heels.

“Good evening, Graham. Dr. Lecter,” she said sweetly.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Will hissed.

“Just wanted to hear your thoughts on the article about you,” she said, her eyes widening innocently.

“What you did was illegal, Miss Lounds,” Hannibal said coolly. “You were sneaking around a government building.”

Freddie raised an eyebrow. “Was I? That’s funny, I definitely don’t remember doing that. Say, Graham, aren’t you technically forbidden from coming here? For at least two weeks, I heard.”

“How did you –” Will stopped himself and took a breath. “I’m allowed to be here. I have _chosen_ to take a small break, thanks to all the bullshit you’ve been writing.”

“Bullshit? Huh, that’s funny. People have been saying that the article was all lies. Guess that makes you lucky. Imagine the consequences for you if it were true.”

“What do you want, Miss Lounds?” Hannibal said sharply.

“I just wanted to give Graham a chance to explain himself. Clear his name, as it were. Because, let’s be honest, no one’s going to believe Crawford saying it’s not true. He’d do anything to not lose his little psychopathic consultant.”

“You want to interview me.”

“Yes, I would,” Freddie said with a smirk.

“Huh. Well, you know, all things considered… go fuck yourself.”

Freddie gave a soft chuckle. “You know, Graham… I can undo what I said. I can also make it a lot worse.”

Will leaned forward. “It’s not very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living,” he said, his voice low.

Freddie smiled slowly, looking at both him and Hannibal before turning and walking away leisurely. Will deflated, leaning onto his car and closing his eyes briefly. Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off.

“You know, Will,” Hannibal said thoughtfully, his eyes still following Freddie. “I wanted to invite you for dinner tomorrow, but I’ve changed my mind.”

Will glanced at him with a frown. “You changed your mind?”

Hannibal nodded, finally looking back towards him. “I forgot I had a prior arrangement. Let’s make it next week. Tuesday. Is that all right?”

Will nodded, still a bit confused. “All right… see you.”

“Goodbye, Will.”

Will got into his car and drove home, his blood still boiling.

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He woke in a cold sweat, and it took a few minutes before he was able to place himself in the here and now. He looked at the clock, the voices of crying children still fresh in his ears. It was five am. Before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching for his phone and dialing a number, putting it on speaker and tossing it onto the pillow beside him.

“Hello?” Hannibal’s voice was rough from sleep, and for some reason that sent a tingling down Will’s spine despite the situation.

He swallowed harshly, immediately regretting the impulsive decision.

“Will?” Hannibal’s voice sounded more urgent. “Are you there?”

“Yes,” he blurted out, his fingers hovering over the phone, itching to end the call. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you all right?”

Will blinked, strangely overwhelmed by the question. No irritation about having been woken this early for something that was obviously not an emergency, no bewildered confusion about being called in the first place. Maybe that was why he said the following.

“No. No, I’m not. I don’t… I don’t know why I called. I’m sorry for waking you.”

He heard rustling sounds.

“I’ll be right there. Will you be okay until I am?”

Will shook his head, not understanding any of this. “Why would you come over? Why…” his voice broke, and he cleared his throat, not finishing his sentence.

Hannibal gave an odd little laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said quietly after a few silent moments.

With that, he hung up, and Will stared at the ceiling, his heart beating in his throat. He roughly rubbed at his eyes, desperately trying to get rid of the wetness. Eventually he dragged himself out of bed, pulled on some trousers and wrapped himself in a blanket.

He made himself some coffee and opened the front door, letting the dogs before going out himself to sit down on the porch.

That’s how he was still sitting when Hannibal drove up, although his coffee was finished and his fingertips where turning faintly blue. He nodded in acknowledgement, and Hannibal gave him a disapproving look before handing him a flask.

“It’s too cold for you to be sitting outside like this, Will.”

“I’ve got a blanket.”

“And no shirt. Will, let’s –”

“I don’t want to go inside.”

Hannibal nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

He stepped inside and returned a few minutes later with a sweater. Will had a brief sense of embarrassment at the state his room was in and the fact that Hannibal had seen it, but pushed it down. He took the sweater and put it on, taking a sip of the coffee Hannibal had brought. “Thanks.”

Hannibal wrapped the blanket around his shoulders again and sat down next to him. “Would you like to talk?”

Will scoffed. “I can’t have let you drive all the way out here and then not talk, can I?”

Hannibal shook his head. “You’re not obliged to do anything. I drove here because I wanted to. You don’t need to say anything you don’t want to.”

Will swallowed, staring at his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s fine,” Hannibal said gently.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Will sipping the flask before remembering to offer it to Hannibal, who declined with a smile.

Finally, Will took a breath. “I dreamt of the victims. Crying, begging… for me to save them. But I couldn’t. They were covered in blood. I still see them when I close my eyes.”

“I suppose you don’t need a psychiatrist to make the connection,” Hannibal said quietly.

Will scoffed. “No. I couldn’t save them. They died, because I still haven’t found the killer. And I know it’s not that black and white, I’m not solely responsible for finding him, but that’s what it feels like.”

“Neither are you responsible for their deaths in the first place,” Hannibal murmured. “But I’m sure you know this, and I know that knowing something and feeling it are two very different things.”

Will nodded. “My dreams seem to be getting worse and worse.”

“That’s not surprising as the case progresses. Can I ask you something, Will?”

Will shrugged.

“Why did you decide to call me? I know nightmares are a regular occurrence for you, so why call me this time?”

Will swallowed, and he gripped the flask so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Why did you react the way you did? Why was there no, ‘what the fuck are you calling me at 5 am for just to breathe into the microphone?’”

Hannibal chuckled. “I’m sure you know by now that there is no situation in where I’d say something like that anyway.”

“Fair enough. But something along those lines. You know what I mean.”

Hannibal nodded. “I do.” He was quiet for a while. “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”

Will snorted. “Oh, that’s how we’re going to do it, huh?”

Hannibal smirked. “It is.”

Will shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine.” The smile faded, and he stared at his dogs playing in the field for a long time before answering. “I wasn’t thinking when I called you. It was pretty much the first thing I did after I woke up. I don’t know exactly why, but if I had to guess… I’d say that for some fucked up reason, you’re the person I can feel I can be myself with most now. And I still think you’re hiding something, so that says a lot about me.”

Hannibal nodded solemnly, although Will wasn’t fooled. He glared at him. “Don’t be so fucking pleased. I can see right through you.”

Hannibal smirked, raising his hands defensively. “Fair enough.”

“Your turn. Why did you react the way you did?”

Hannibal looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you really not know?”

Will shook his head slowly.

“Because I care about you, Will. A lot. And that means that if you need me, I’ll do my best to be there whenever I can.”

Will bit the inside of his cheek. “I… don’t know how to feel about that. Or how to respond to it.”

Hannibal chuckled. “Understandable. It must be strange to hear something like that from a man you despise, I imagine.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “It was starting to lessen, but keep talking like that and I’ll full on hate you again.”

Hannibal laughed. “Noted. I must say I consider it a victory that it’s starting to lessen.”

Will smirked and shook his head. Hannibal put a hand on his arm and Will looked up at him. He had turned serious.

“I mean that, Will. I want it to disappear completely, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it so.”

Will leaned forward. “Whatever it takes?”

Hannibal tilted his head, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “That depends on what you’re about to say.”

“Tell me what you’re hiding,” he murmured.

Hannibal leaned forward then also, his eyes drawn to Will’s lips. “Bold of you to assume I’m hiding anything in the first place.”

Will saw the gleam in his eye, saw that he was thoroughly enjoying this game. And, he had to reluctantly admit, so was he.

“I know you’re hiding something. Something… dark,” he breathed. “And it…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud.

It excited him. His repulsion had turned into excitement, and he didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but he knew there was no turning back from it. It attracted him. Which was why the smart thing to do was to stay away from Hannibal. Avoid him at all costs. Not call him over at 5 o’clock in the morning because he’d had a nightmare. Not accept his invitation to dinner. Not let him brush his hands over his, let him wrap a blanket around his shoulders and sit knee to knee with him on his porch.

“It what, Will?” Hannibal murmured.

“It’s dangerous,” Will finally whispered.

Hannibal smirked, his fingers trailing along Will’s back under the blanket, making him shiver. “That doesn’t seem to bother you anymore.”

“It probably will once I’ve figured out what it is.”

His hands had somehow found their way to Hannibal’s hips, pulling him closer.

“I think,” Hannibal said, “I think it would bother you a lot less than you would like.”

Will narrowed his eyes, his heart beating in his throat. Despite his best efforts, he felt himself leaning forward and closing his eyes –

A dog barked, breaking the spell.

Will pulled back, running his hands through his hair. Hannibal gave him a smile before standing up.

“I should go.”

“You’re, uh… welcome to stay for breakfast, if you’d like,” Will said gruffly, feeling odd in a way he couldn’t describe.

“Thank you, Will, but I have appointments I should be getting to soon. I’ll see you on Tuesday, if not sooner.”

Will gave a wry smile. “If not sooner.”

“I look forward to it, Will. Try and get some sleep. Good bye.”

Will watched as Hannibal walked towards his car, turning one last time to look at Will, before driving off. He sat on the porch for a long while after that, before finally taking up Hannibal’s advice and going back to bed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO yes this is terribly late im so sorry but ive been so fucking busy ANYWAY here it is hope yall enjoy <3

**Chapter 11**

“It’s Abigail Hobbs on the recording. Her mother confirmed it,” Jack said grimly.

“Abigail Hobbs,” Will repeated quietly, frowning.

“Is that not who you expected it to be?” Hannibal asked, tilting his head slightly.

“No, I… I actually did expect it to be her, for some reason. Her last words were written on the wall…” Will trailed off.

“But they’re not the same ones as on the recording?” Jack asked, frowning.

“The words on the wall were the ones she said right before she died. The cd is what she said during the assault,” Will muttered.

“Why is there a difference? Why not record everything, or write everything on the wall?” Jack asked.

Will shook his head. “There is a significance. But I don’t know what it is.”

“Maybe the assault and the murder were done by two different people,” Hannibal said slowly.

Will looked at him sharply. “What?”

“Maybe that’s why one was recorded, and the other one was written. It’s two different people,” Hannibal continued.

“Which would mean the assault is done by someone they know, and the murder isn’t,” Jack said quietly.

“Hang on, that doesn’t make sense. Why would the killer have someone else assault the children before proceeding to kill them?” Will said, frowning.

“I don’t know, Will. Either way, it’s our best shot right now. We’re looking for an accomplice. Man and wife, maybe?” Jack said.

“No, stop, this is all wrong,” Will snapped. “It’s only one person, it’s always been one person. There’s just something we’re not getting.”

“Look, Will. I trust you – you know I do – but unless you can give me anything else to work with, this is all we’ve got.” Jack looked at him expectantly, almost hopefully, but Will bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

Jack sighed. “All right. So now we’re looking for an accomplice. Hannibal, any ideas?”

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“Why did you say that? You know it’s not two people,” Will snapped as Hannibal calmly walked beside him.

“I know it’s not two people murdering the children. But it could be someone else assaulting them. The semen found on every child is different after all, too.”

“So, what, he just hires someone different each time to assault the children?” Will scoffed.

Hannibal didn’t respond.

“Yeah. See you later,” Will said coolly.

Hannibal’s hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve. Will looked down at it before looking up at Hannibal, having gone still.

“Don’t forget dinner tomorrow,” Hannibal then said with a smirk.

Will’s face softened and he nodded. “I won’t forget.”

“Good. I look forward to it.” Hannibal let go of his sleeve, his hand lingering on Will’s wrist for a moment too long, before turning and walking away leisurely.

Will shook his head at himself for being so easily affected and went home.

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That night, when he woke up from more hideous nightmares and screams still echoing in his mind – the ink-black, antlered creature ever present – something clicked into place.

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“Let me take your coat,” Hannibal said with a smile, extending his arms.

“Thanks,” Will said, too overwhelmed to protest. He looked around the house in awe, being completely taken aback by what it looked like – while at the same time not being in the least surprised.

“I can’t believe I let you into my house,” he muttered, following Hannibal down the hallway.

The latter chuckled. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Your house is nice,” Will said with a snort, letting himself be led into the dining room.

“Thank you. Please, sit down. Wine?”

“Yeah, why not. I got this far.”

Hannibal looked at him with a wry smile before pouring him a glass. “I’ll be right back.”

He left to presumably go into the kitchen, and Will looked around the room while sipping his wine. Hannibal returned a few moments later, carrying two plates and setting one down in front of Will. The latter gave a low whistle. “Wow. What is this?”

“Tongue en Papillote with Duxelle sauce,” Hannibal said, sitting down at his place at the table, directly opposite Will.

“Tongue?” Will said.

Hannibal nodded, taking a sip of wine.

“I’ve never had tongue before.”

“Then I am glad to be able to witness your first experience,” Hannibal said with a smile, cutting into his food.

Will gave a wry smile, doing the same and taking a bite. “This is… very good.”

“Thank you. I’m happy you enjoy it.”

“I am enjoying it. Did you go to culinary school or something?”

Hannibal chuckled. “No. It is a passion of mine.”

“Huh.”

“What are your passions, Will?”

Will snorted, taking a sip of wine. “I don’t really have any.”

“Of course you do. There are things that make you happy, things that give meaning to your life.”

“I guess… my dogs. And fishing.”

“I saw the lures when I was in your home. Do you fish often?”

“When I can.”

“What makes it your passion?”

Will thought for a moment, chewing. “It brings me peace. When I’m fishing, I’m not thinking about anything else other than what I’m doing in that moment.” He was quiet for a while, and then he shrugged. “And I get a nice dinner out of it now and then.”

Hannibal gave him an odd smile. “You must let me taste one of those dishes some time.”

“Are you kidding? I am never cooking for you after this. Whatever I make is going to look and taste like shit to you.”

Hannibal laughed. “It won’t. I would love to taste your cooking, Will.”

Will looked up at him, a smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll see.”

“I must say,” Hannibal said, taking a sip of wine, “you are being a lot… friendlier than I was anticipating.” There was a teasing tone to his voice, and Will chuckled wryly.

“I’m being a lot friendlier than I was anticipating, too. Maybe it’s the food.”

“Or the wine.”

“Or both. Definitely not the company, though.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare to assume it.”

They grinned at each other from over the rims of their glasses.

“Any other passions?” Will then asked, fidgeting at the tingle that went down his spine.

Hannibal smirked. “A few.”

“How mysterious.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Dessert?”

“Please.”

Hannibal leaned over him to pick up his plate, and Will was hit with the smell of his cologne, subtle yet intoxicating. He knew Hannibal noticed this as the latter leaned over him for just a minute too long, came just a bit too close as he leaned back up.

Will looked up at him with narrowed eyes, heart beating in his throat as his fingers itched to stroke along his neck. Hannibal smiled down at him pleasantly, letting his eyes linger before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

Will let out a breath, leaning back and willing his heartbeat to return to a normal rate. Hannibal returned shortly after, and they ate their dessert and finished their wine, and Hannibal poured them more.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Will asked, taking a gulp.

“If you continue to drink your wine like that then you will get drunk, and it’ll hardly be my fault,” Hannibal said, amused.

“I’m sorry, should I be inhaling my wine every time I take a sip? Because I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t have the patience for that.”

“Are you mocking me?” Hannibal said with a laugh.

“Maybe I am. Does that bother you?”

“Not as much as it should. In fact, from you – I like it.”

Will paused, fingers gripping the stem of the wine glass a little too hard. “That’s… odd, Dr. Lecter.”

“I’ve been called a lot worse.”

“I still feel weird about being here.”

They were both quiet for a few long minutes after this abrupt statement. Will had no idea where it had come from, and he didn’t know what to say now that it was out.

“Why is that?” Hannibal finally asked quietly.

“Because a part of me says I shouldn’t trust you. A big part. I shouldn’t be enjoying myself this much and I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. And another part wants to…” he trailed off.

“Wants to what, Will?” Hannibal murmured.

Will looked at him, stubbornly not answering. After another long moment of silence, Hannibal stood.

“Let’s go to the study.”

Will followed him wordlessly, sat down on the couch and stared as Hannibal sat down beside him. The latter leaned over and gently took the glass of wine from Will’s hand, setting it on the table.

“Come here, Will,” Hannibal then said quietly, extending a hand.

Will hesitated before leaning over and taking his hand, letting himself be pulled practically onto Hannibal’s lap.

Hannibal brought his hands to Will’s face, stroking his jaw almost tenderly. “You can trust me,” he murmured, and Will leaned forward, repositioning himself so his legs were at either side of Hannibal’s.

“Can I?” Will whispered, shivering as Hannibal’s hand stroked along his back.

“Yes. I would never harm you,” Hannibal said softly, his lips brushing Will’s throat. “Unless you want me to,” he added as an afterthought, and Will let out a soft, nervous laugh.

He felt Hannibal’s hands on the nape of his neck, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. When Hannibal’s mouth found his, he let out a quiet moan, feeling as though he was finally getting something he had been waiting for for a long, long time.

His mouth fell open when Hannibal’s tongue brushed against his bottom lip, and somehow his hands found their way to Hannibal’s shirt, unbuttoning it and trailing his fingers along his chest. Hannibal pulled away and resumed kissing his throat, and his head fell back, eyes closing. He felt a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’ve been drugging me.”

Hannibal’s mouth stilled against his neck, but Will didn’t stop his exploration of Hannibal’s chest. The latter leaned back, his face not conveying any emotion, eyes carefully empty.

“What makes you say that?”

Will let out a breathy laugh, bringing his hands to Hannibal’s hair and leaning down for another kiss. It was warily returned, although his hands were unmoving on Will’s back.

“My nightmares,” Will finally said after breaking away. “They’ve become a lot worse since you’ve been giving me coffee almost every day. A lot more vivid. I’ve had a few hallucinations. I know it’s you, Hannibal.”

Hannibal stared at him, and Will pulled off his own shirt, taking Hannibal’s hands and pressing them to his chest.

“The notion doesn’t seem to bother you that much,” Hannibal then said, eyes not leaving his even as his hands roamed along Will’s sides.

Will let out another laugh. “Carefully not admitting anything. Very clever.”

The corner of Hannibal’s mouth tugged up into a very subtle smirk.

“So. Why did you do it?”

Hannibal leaned back slightly and tilted his head, a gleam in his eyes. Will followed him, curling an arm around Hannibal’s neck and stopping at the point that their lips almost brushed.

“Tell me,” he breathed, feeling Hannibal’s fingers tighten around his waist. “I want to know.”

“Will…” Hannibal murmured, lips trying to seek out his.

“Hannibal,” Will replied with a hoarse chuckle. He leaned back, putting a hand on Hannibal’s chest as the latter tried to follow him.

“So you’re not going to admit it?”

Hannibal looked at him with a dark smile, his eyes hungry. He stayed silent.

“All right. Then let’s say if you were going to drug me periodically, causing my nightmares to worsen and making me hallucinate – why would you do it? Hypothetically, of course.”

Hannibal’s smile widened, and he casually rearranged them so he was more comfortable, simultaneously pulling Will closer to him with a sharp tug which caused the latter to give a small gasp.

“Hypothetically…” Hannibal said, pulling Will’s head back by his hair and grazing his teeth along his throat, “I would do it to give you a reason to start therapy.”

Will paused, pulling away from Hannibal’s grip with a baffled laugh. “Really?”

“Hypothetically, of course.”

“That’s an… unorthodox approach.”

“I did ask. Multiple times. Yet your answer stayed the same.”

“True enough.” Will tilted his head. “Why do you want me to start therapy with you so bad?”

Hannibal smiled and looked down at Will’s chest, fingertips grazing it. “Why are you not bothered by my hypothetical actions?”

“Because, Dr. Lecter…” Will leaned down and loosened Hannibal’s belt. “There is something very wrong with me.”

Hannibal’s eyes darkened and he leaned back, giving Will more access. “Would you like to talk about it?” he murmured slyly.

Will snorted, not gracing that with an answer. Instead, he started working on undoing Hannibal’s trousers, and the latter turned them over and lay them down on the couch in a swift move. Before Will could properly register what was happening, they had both stripped down to only their underwear. He closed his eyes and shuddered as Hannibal’s fingers brushed over his crotch, leaning up into the touch.

He reached down, trying to pull down Hannibal’s underwear with a determination that surprised even him. Suddenly, Hannibal’s hand shot down, gripping both his wrists in one hand.

“Will, wait,” Hannibal said quietly.

“What?” Will said breathlessly, impatience sounding in his voice.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Will blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “The last time this happened, you told me it was a mistake, never to be repeated. I don’t want you to feel that way again.”

Will swallowed, glancing down at their bodies pressed together. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I want this. I wanted it then too, I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“Are you certain?”

Will looked at him, wringing his hands free and moving down Hannibal’s underwear. “Yes.”

Something cleared in Hannibal’s eyes, and he kissed him, deep and long, their bodies twisted and moving together. And just like that, Will was lost.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the comments, kudo's bookmarks as aaaaalways i love you guys!! hope yall enjoy xx

**Chapter 12**

Will woke as sunlight crept over his eyelids. He had had a relatively good night, with only a couple of nightmares – and, as he now remembered, a warm chest and whispered words to comfort him when he woke because of them.

He reached out, looking for the source of the warm chest and whispered words, only to find empty space. He opened an eye, confirming that the bed was indeed, save for him, empty. His hand fell onto the mattress. It was still warm. He groaned, forcing himself to get out of bed with sheer willpower. He pulled on his T-shirt and boxers, trudging downstairs, the smell of breakfast growing stronger with every step.

Hannibal turned to him as he entered the kitchen, a soft smile on his face. “Will. Good morning.”

“Morning,” Will mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry if I woke you. I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.”

Will felt his mouth tug up into a smile. “You didn’t wake me. Sorry to ruin your plans.”

“It’s all right. In fact –” he checked his watch – “We could still have breakfast in bed. It’s early.”

“That sounds good. Great, even,” Will replied, wrapping his arms around himself and leaning against the doorway.

Hannibal smiled, plating the food and putting everything on a tray. Before picking it up, he poured Will a cup of coffee, walking over to him and handing it over. Will paused, looking at Hannibal who looked back with raised eyebrows. A smirk tugged at Will’s mouth and he took the cup, taking a sip without breaking eye contact. A dark smile covered Hannibal’s features and he turned to pick up the tray, following Will back up the stairs.

They both got into bed and Hannibal put the tray on their laps, Will automatically leaning down so he was resting against Hannibal. They ate mostly in silence, a strange atmosphere in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Will eventually asked, before taking a sip of coffee and absent-mindedly trying to taste something funny in it. It tasted fine.

“I was going to ask you the same question,” Hannibal replied wryly.

Will frowned, looking up at him. “Why?”

“Because, Will, I have to admit – I am feeling rather wary of how this is going to affect you.”

Will sat up properly, moving the tray so he could turn towards Hannibal. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that after last time, I find it hard to judge how you will react to this in a few hours.”

“Well, I didn’t run away this time, did I?” Will said with a dry smile.

Hannibal returned it. “No, you didn’t. But you might.”

Will paused, looking away. “Why does that bother you so much?”

Hannibal let out a quiet chuckle. “You really must stop asking questions you already know the answer to.”

Will sniffed, crossing his arms. “Maybe you’re right.”

They were quiet for a while, and Will picked at his T-shirt, trying to think of what to say. Eventually, he took a breath. “Look, this is really difficult for me to say – and I’m only saying it because you leave me no choice, just for the record – but… I liked last night. Really liked it. And I like you. I’ve come to… accept that. Sort of. So I’m not going to run away. Unless you give me reason to.”

Hannibal nodded slowly, his hands finding Will’s. “I will try not to,” he said, an amused tone to his voice.

“Besides,” Will said, clearing his throat and sliding back down, “I still need to figure out your secret. Can’t really do that if we’re not speaking, can I.”

He felt rather than heard Hannibal chuckle. “You most likely could,” he then said, very quietly. “But I agree you have a better chance when we are speaking.”

“Holy shit.” Will turned to him sharply. “You admitted it. You are hiding something. I fucking knew it.”

“…Hypothetically,” Hannibal said, and Will smirked and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find out eventually.”

“And what would you do when you find out, I wonder?” Hannibal said thoughtfully. “Tell everyone you know or keep it to yourself?”

“That depends on what it is.”

“Really?”

“…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep it to myself either way.”

Hannibal grinned at him. “I trust you to make the right decision.”

“And if I don’t?” Will asked, his voice low.

Hannibal’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on his hands and he was quiet for a moment. “Then I’ll forgive you.”

Will swallowed, not knowing how to respond to this. Hannibal’s hand crept up along his arm, trailed along his neck and finally reached his jaw to turn his face towards his and kiss him. Will leaned into the kiss, a soft sigh escaping him.

Somehow, with this man he barely trusted, he felt happier than he had in a long time. He wasn’t sure if it was despite or partly because of that.

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Jack, Hannibal and Will stood in the bitter cold, staring at the tableau before them. A boy this time, aged around ten, his arms sewn around his body to make it look like he was clutching himself desperately, his legs tucked underneath him. Under his eyes, two carefully displayed running drops of blood. The corners of his mouth were cut down to portray a silent wail.

“Will,” Jack said quietly, and Will grit his teeth and turned away.

“He’s in pain. He’s been in pain for a long time. The killer is only showing us that, in his mind.”

“The killer thinks he’s doing this kid justice?” Jack said with a disgusted scoff.

“He’s… telling the kid’s story,” Will said slowly, feeling more pieces slowly fall into place.

“There’s something between his legs,” Hannibal said abruptly.

Jack and Will looked to where he pointed, and sure enough, something white and rectangular protruded from between the boy’s legs. Jack walked over and bent down, carefully plucking the object out.

“It’s an envelope,” he muttered, quickly opening it. “Jesus Christ.”

He quickly handed it over to Will, who felt the bile rise to his throat and he handed it over to Hannibal. The latter frowned as he looked through the dozen photographs.

“The dates and times have been burned away on each photograph,” he said quietly.

Jack took them back, glancing at the areas. “Katz!” he barked. She quickly came striding over, her face grim as she took the envelope from Jack. “Have these checked for prints.”

She nodded, sending Will a dark look, before turning and returning to where she was.

“He’s giving us another clue,” Will said quietly.

“I wish it wasn’t in the form of child pornography every time,” Jack muttered.

“I agree,” Hannibal said quietly.

“Why would the dates have been burned away?” Will murmured. “Why would it matter when it happened to the child?”

“They’re covering their tracks,” Jack suggested.

“By leaving us photographs?” Will shook his head. “No, this has a specific reason.”

“Any hunches?” Jack asked with a hopeful tone.

Will was quiet for a moment. “Not yet. Give me some time and I’ll get back to you on that.”

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“You have some time to talk?”

Will turned to Beverly, who was approaching him with her hands in her pockets.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Uh.” She glanced around and the people around them, including Price and Zeller who were watching them curiously from afar. “Maybe outside.”

Will took the hint and nodded, following her to their designated bench outside the building.

“No coffee this time?” he joked, and Beverly gave him a wry smile.

“Had other things on my mind.”

“So. What’s going on?”

Beverly took a breath. “I guess… I just want to know how you’re doing.”

Will blinked at her. “I’m… okay? All things considered,” he added.

She nodded. “All things considered.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Really, though? All that bullshit with Lounds and –”

“Really. I’m doing a bit better than I was.”

Beverly nodded to herself, her demeanor changing. “Would it have anything to do with Dr. Lecter?” she then asked teasingly.

“Wha— what the hell makes you say that?” Will spluttered, feeling himself turning pink, much to his dismay.

Beverly threw her head back and laughed. “Well, it was a hunch, but now I know for sure. What’s that about?”

“You had a hunch? How did you have a hunch? What made you have a hunch?” Will asked, panicked.

She snorted. “Will, calm down. We’ve known each other for a while, I can see things other people can’t. Even when you said you hated him I could see there was something going on there. I’m a lot more observant than you think, you know.”

“I guess that’s sort of reassuring. Sort of,” Will muttered.

“So, what’s the deal? You hate him, then you bang him?”

He glared at her, which earned him a smug grin. “Well it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Its… complicated,” he said with a sigh, ignoring the fire shooting through his veins at the thought of last night.

“I’ll bet it is. I think it’s literally impossible for you to have any kind of relationship that isn’t complicated.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Is our relationship complicated?”

She leaned back, giving him a thoughtful look. “Somewhat,” she then said slowly.

He nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Anyway, I think Dr. Lecter’s a complicated man as well. Very… mysterious.”

Will snorted. “That he is.”

“Speak of the devil,” she then said quietly, subtly nudging him.

Will looked up to see Hannibal approaching them.

“Hello, Will. Miss Katz,” he said pleasantly. “Will, I was wondering if I could have a moment?”

“Uh… actually, Beverly and I –”

“It’s okay. I know what I wanted to know, anyway,” Beverly grinned. “See you, Will. Until next time, Dr. Lecter.”

She left them with a suggestive eyebrow raise at Will which he pointedly ignored. Hannibal sat down next to him, his hands neatly on his lap.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” Hannibal then asked.

Will snorted. “We had dinner together yesterday.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said with raised eyebrows.

“You don’t want to wait a couple of days? Give each other some time to get used to the idea, maybe?”

“No?”

Will sniffed. “Fair enough. Yeah, I’ll come by after work.”

Hannibal grinned at him. “Good. I’ll see you then.”

Without warning, he kissed him on the lips, before getting up and sauntering away. Will stared after him, half dazed and half annoyed. His tongue shot out to lick his lips without him realising, and when the flavour of Hannibal’s lips sent a shudder down his spine, he knew he was truly too far gone.

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“What are you thinking?”

Hannibal’s voice was quiet, a light caress. The only other sounds were vegetables being chopped and the very quiet classical music sounding through the room.

“I was thinking that watching you chop up carrots shouldn’t be this fascinating.”

Hannibal turned to him with a smile. “And what are you really thinking?”

Will snorted, turning so he was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “I was thinking about the photographs. About the dates being burned away. But that’s not really romantic dinner conversation.”

Hannibal gave a small shrug. “We’re not having dinner yet.”

“Good point.”

“So what are your thoughts on that?”

“My thoughts are… basically what I said to Jack. There’s a very good reason why he did that. And he wants us to find out.”

“Why not just tell us?”

Will watched Hannibal’s fingers, his hand making neat circular motions, his forearms, his shoulders. He never knew hands and arms could be so attractive.

“Because that would be too easy, of course,” he scoffed. “In all seriousness, though, he feels like he can’t. He feels like he’s doing so much already by giving us these clues, like he really shouldn’t be doing so.”

“What are your best guesses about the reason for burning away the dates, then?”

“My guess is…” Will bit his lip, staring into the distance. “If he’d left the dates, we would have realised something wasn’t right between them and the murder.”

Hannibal glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that the dates wouldn’t coincide with when the boy was murdered. Which would mean that he knew the boy and had done these things to him long before he killed him.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal said, turning and going to wash his hands. “I think you may be right.”

Will absent-mindedly pulled a knife from the knife block, holding it up to the light. “I know. You have a lot of knives.”

Hannibal chuckled, coming up to stand behind him. “Do you like them? They’re—”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re made from steel forged from fucking dragon’s breath or something. Ridiculously valuable. I don’t want to know or I’ll feel bad about even looking at them.”

“Actually,” Hannibal murmured into Will’s ear, a smile in his voice, “I was going to say they’re very sharp, so be careful.” He pressed up against Will, his jaw brushing against Will’s neck.

“Oh,” Will said flatly, shuddering lightly.

Hannibal’s hand trailed along his arm, wrapping around the hand that was holding the knife. He lifted their hands up, their reflections in the blade looking back at them.

“Clean knife,” Will whispered, watching it shake in his unsteady hand.

“Of course.” Hannibal’s other arm wrapped around his waist, pressing him close.

Before he realised what he was doing, Will moved their hands slowly closer to his throat, the knife glinting in the light. He felt Hannibal’s grip on his hand tighten and his breath stop in his ear.

“Will, what…” he trailed off as Will very carefully put the knife against his throat.

“What are you doing?” Hannibal whispered, although the hand around Will’s waist was slowly trailing downwards.

“I’m… discovering something new about myself, apparently,” Will said with a breathy, nervous laugh which was broken by a gasp when Hannibal slowly stroked him over his trousers.

“You like having a knife held to your throat?” Hannibal murmured, his lips brushing Will’s jaw.

“When it’s your hand holding the knife,” Will whispered.

He carefully pressed the knife closer, letting out a soft breath when he felt the skin break. Hannibal’s hand on his tightened and pulled the knife away ever so slightly.

“It’s okay,” Will said quietly. His hand slowly let go of the knife so only Hannibal was holding it.

“Will…”

“It’s okay,” he repeated, letting his head fall back onto Hannibal’s shoulder, exposing his throat.

“Why?” Hannibal said quietly.

“Aren’t you curious?” Will whispered slowly.

Hannibal’s hand undid his trousers and moved into his underwear. Will quickly started unbuttoning his shirt, feeling his knees getting weak.

“Curious about death?”

Will moaned, moving into Hannibal’s touch as the knife pressed a fraction of an inch further into his skin, his hand carefully controlled.

“Curious about… dying,” he managed.

“I remember saying those words to encourage the exact opposite.”

“I know.”

“Will. I don’t—”

“It’s okay. I trust you.”

“That is news to me,” Hannibal murmured, a teasing note to his voice.

Will didn’t get the chance to respond, as Hannibal gripped him tighter and moved the knife away from his throat to his collarbone, smartly nicking it without any warning.

Will hadn’t anticipated how good that would feel and he looked down, his breath coming in pants, to see the small trickle of blood roll down his chest.

“More,” he moaned before he knew what he was doing.

Hannibal pressed himself roughly up against Will, and he felt hardness against his backside.

Hannibal trailed the knife lightly over his chest before cutting into the other collarbone, deeper and slower this time. He was still stroking Will, and the latter gasped, bringing a finger to the blood. Hannibal slowly put down the knife, much to Will’s dismay.

“Enough,” he said gently, bringing Will’s finger to his mouth and sucking the blood off before kissing his jaw.

Despite the disappointment, Will came soon after, bowing over the counter as Hannibal held him. Afterwards, Hannibal turned him around and took his hands, kissing him deeply. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Will nodded in a daze, absent-mindedly realising how late dinner was going to be now, subsequently reasling he didn’t care in the least.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the lovely feedback, i love y'all <3

**Chapter 13**

Will woke to a burning in his chest. He rubbed his eyes and looked down, staring at the two neat bandages on his collarbones. He closed his eyes again, remembering the night before with a sense of dazed bewilderment. He was a lot more fucked up than he thought, and that was saying something.

He dismissed this thought quickly, and turned to see Hannibal asleep. He glanced at the clock. It was 4 in the morning. He turned his back to Hannibal, not wanting to disturb him, and let out a quiet sigh. He trailed his fingers over the bandages, wincing at the pain. He brought his hand up to his throat, where there was another, smaller bandage covering the small cut. He’d take it off later today, it wasn’t necessary anyway. If anyone asked, he’d say he’d nicked himself while shaving.

He smiled softly when he felt an arm wrap around his waist and a chin rest on his shoulder.

“Are they bothering you?” Hannibal murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Only a little. Sorry for waking you,” Will whispered, finding Hannibal’s hand and threading his fingers through his.

Hannibal pressed a kiss to his neck, and Will closed his eyes and tilted his head back with a contented sigh.

“There is no need to apologise. If anything, I should be the one apologising.” He brought their hands to Will’s collarbones, gently trailing his fingers over the bandages.

“I wanted you to do it,” Will whispered, shuddering ever so slightly.

“Would you have had me gone even farther, had I let you?” Hannibal wondered, his breath tickling Will’s ear.

“Yes,” Will said, his voice almost inaudibly quiet.

“How far?”

Will shrugged, curling into himself. Hannibal’s body followed his, wrapping around him, not letting him get away from the conversation.

“Far enough,” Will finally replied.

“I have no interest in killing you, Will,” Hannibal said, sounding amused.

Will didn’t reply.

“Do you still have an interest in dying?” Hannibal then asked, his voice quiet.

He shrugged again.

Hannibal’s hand rested on his heart, pulling him closer towards him.

“I don’t know,” Will finally said, feeling incredibly small. “A little less each day, I guess.”

Hannibal was quiet for a few moments, absent-mindedly pressing kisses to Will’s temple.

“Not completely the answer I was hoping for,” he eventually said, his voice thoughtful.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to try anything again. It’s just not something that suddenly disappears.”

“I realise that,” Hannibal replied gently. “Is there anything I can do to help lessen those feelings?”

Will smiled despite himself, and turned his head to kiss Hannibal. “Just keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

“If that’s what helps, then that’s what I will do,” Hannibal replied quietly.

Will closed his eyes, feeling Hannibal’s beating heart on his skin.

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“You’re looking chipper,” Jack commented with raised eyebrows as Will sat down in front of him, Hannibal following him suite.

“And you’re looking especially grim. Does that mean something happened?”

“…Yes. One of the fathers committed suicide.”

Will grimaced. “That’s… unfortunate. Whose father?”

“Take a guess.”

Will frowned. “Abigail Hobbs’?”

Jack nodded.

“I’m getting the sense that none of us is surprised,” Hannibal said lightly.

“What is it about her?” Will said, more to himself, and he stood up and started pacing around the room.

“Her words on the wall, her body leading to the first clue, now her father commits suicide. There’s something about this girl that makes her different from the others.”

“To the killer, anyway,” Hannibal agreed.

“It was for her he first felt remorse,” Will said very quietly, running a hand through his hair.

“What?” Jack barked.

“This girl. Abigail Hobbs. He first started feeling remorse when he killed her,” Will repeated, louder this time.

“What makes you say that?” Hannibal asked.

“She was… different, somehow. Did we manage to clear the audio on that tape?”  Will then asked sharply.

Jack shook his head. “No. Whatever he was trying to hide, he hid it well.”

“Shit,” Will muttered, tapping his fingers on his leg.

“So is he feeling remorse for every victim now, or is it just her?” Jack then asked.

“Every victim. It’s because of her that he wants to stop.”

“Then why not just give himself up?”

“He can’t. For some reason, he feels compelled to do this, even though he hates it.  I noticed you’re talking about a ‘him’ again instead of a ‘them,’ Jack. Changed your mind about him having an accomplice?” Will then asked, trying and failing to keep the spite out of his voice.

“I guess I trust you more than I trust the evidence,” Jack said gruffly.

“As you should,” Will said, crossing his arms.

“Agreed,” Hannibal said, the hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

“All right, all right,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Why does he feel compelled to kill children?”

“It’s not just children. They’ll all have something in common, something that links them to the killer. Whether he knew them personally or not.”

“But then how is he finding and choosing them?”

“I don’t know, Jack. But I’ll tell you this… if there’s footage of the Hobbs girl and the Peterson boy, there’s going to be footage of the others.”

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“What’d you do to your neck?”

Will stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Of course Beverly would notice, of all people. “I nicked myself while shaving.”

“Huh. You completely missed your scruff.”

Will actually did roll his eyes this time. “Well, what can I say. I was tired.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at –”

“Is it self-harm?” Zeller piped up.

“Yes, Zeller, I gave myself a tiny cut on my neck because I wanted to hurt myself,” Will snapped.

“That was a really insensitive question, Brian,” Price said disapprovingly.

“Stupid, too,” Beverly said coolly.

“Look, sorry. Just with what Lounds has been writing –”

“You’re not dumb enough to actually believe that, are you?” Beverly bit out. “If so, he’s standing right here. You can ask him instead of speculating behind his back like a fucking pussy.”

Will raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, glaring at Zeller. “Well? Ask away.”

“No, no,” Zeller muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Sorry, Will. Beverly’s right, Lounds spouts bullshit.”

“Yeah, she does. So the next time she writes an article about me trying to kill myself, you can come directly to me and ask if it’s true, all right?”

“Yeah. Of course. Sorry guys,” Zeller said again, having turned completely pink in the meantime.

“Dumbass,” Beverly muttered.

“Agreed,” Price said with raised eyebrows.

It was quiet for a few long moments.

“Why don’t you go get us all some coffee, Zeller?” Price then said lightly.

“Yeah. Sure. Be right back,” Zeller said, quickly leaving the room.

“I apologise for his boorish behaviour,” Price then said. “I’ve tried to raise him well, but sometimes these things get away from you.”

Will chuckled at this. “Don’t worry about it, Jimmy. His embarrassment right now makes up for any dumb questions.”

“Very true,” Beverly said with a smirk.

“Speaking of Lounds and her articles, she’s been awful quiet, don’t you think?” Price said with a raised eyebrow.

Will shrugged. “Maybe she came to her senses and realised that what she does is an incredibly shitty way to make a living.”

“Hmm. Doubt it,” Beverly said. “She’s probably just waiting on something big.”

“God, I hate her,” Price said, eyes at the ceiling. “She’s been making our jobs even more difficult for years.”

“She’ll get what’s coming to her, eventually. She’ll either piss off the wrong person, contaminate a crime scene or some killer will like her articles just a little too much. Either way, I’ll be surprised if Tattlecrime is still up and running at the end of this year.”

Will hmm’d his agreement, and Zeller returned with their coffees and downcast eyes.

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“Thank you for agreeing to this, Will,” Alana said, taking a sip of her beer.

“Sure,” Will replied, mirroring the movement by taking a sip of his whiskey.

They were in a restaurant. The first time they had dinner together, just the two of them, ever. Will tried not to linger on the fact that it took him almost killing himself for it to become possible.

“How have you been?” she asked with a small smile.

Will looked at her, saw the gentle genuineness in her eyes that was always present, and couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. He sighed, deflated slightly.

“I’m okay. Besides the general awfulness of the case, I’m okay.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I guess that means there’s no further developments in the case, then?” she asked carefully.

Will shrugged. “Somewhat. It’s… excruciatingly slow, but we’re making some progress.”

Alana nodded, as if this confirmed her thoughts. Then she shook her head, as if to herself. “Anyway, I didn’t ask you to have dinner with me to talk about the case.”

“Why… did you ask me to have dinner with you?” Will asked slowly, trying not to sound hostile.

“Because of what I said the other day. I want us to be friends again, Will. I realise I screwed up and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t been there for you, and it’s something I’ll always regret.”

Will stayed quiet, shaking his whiskey around in the glass.

“Do you resent me for it?” she then asked quietly.

Will stayed quiet as their food arrived, only speaking when the waiter had left again. “Somewhat,” he admitted.

She nodded, having expected the answer, but he could still see her flinch.

“You have every right to,” Alana then said after clearing her throat.

Will started eating, the silence between them deafening. Alana followed his lead, a few strands of her dark hair falling over her eye. Will thought back to a time that something like this would mesmerise him, that her striking blue eyes could pierce his heart, that her smile could make his stomach flutter. And he couldn’t imagine it anymore. Of course, she was beautiful, that would always be a fact – but he couldn’t imagine his feelings going further than platonic anymore.

The realisation made him happy.

“Did you disappear because I had feelings for you?” Will then asked casually, already knowing the answer.

He saw Alana freeze in the middle of cutting into her food, and she carefully set down her cutlery and looked at him. “Yes. And because I had feelings for you.”

“Why would that have been so bad?” Will asked, genuinely curious.

Alana shook her head, gave an uncomfortable little laugh. “Will… we wouldn’t have been good for each other. Me, with my constantly wanting to fix everyone, and…”

“And me, who needed fixing,” Will finished for her with a cool smile.

“No,” she said softly. “You don’t need fixing, Will. You’re not broken. What you needed back then, Will, was… a source of stability. You sought that stability with me. I couldn’t have given it to you, not without damaging myself and our relationship.”

Will was quiet, and he took a big gulp of the whiskey. “Seems you hit the nail right on the head.”

“You know it’s true,” she said gently.

“Look, Alana, I don’t resent you for not wanting to be in a relationship with me. I’m over that. I got over that a long time ago. I resent you for not even wanting to be my friend. For wanting to distance yourself so much that it took me almost killing myself for you to come back.”

“I know. And I’m… sorry for that. More sorry than I’m able to say. I panicked, I guess. I was afraid of how much I wanted to be with you. So I ran. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to…” she trailed off, swallowing.

Will looked away, and started when her hand came to rest upon his. “I’m not expecting you to forgive me, but I have to try. I’ll start by paying for dinner.”

He looked up to see her smiling at him carefully, and he gave a begrudging smile of his own.

“So how did you and Margot meet?” he asked, changing the subject, feeling that neither of them was enjoying the current subject.

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Even though his nightmares had lessened significantly after Hannibal and he had their talk about the coffee, they were still ever present. The antlered demon hadn’t left his dreams, and although he didn’t see it when he was awake anymore, its presence in his nightmares was enough to leave him shaken for the rest of the day.

He found himself immediately wishing for Hannibal’s presence when he woke, and after realising he was alone, he let his fingers run over the bandaged cuts. He winced at the pain, bewildered at the threads of pleasure finding their way through it.

He briefly debated calling Hannibal before deciding against it. There had to be at least one day in the week he didn’t need him. He found himself wondering what exactly they were doing, how far exactly this was supposed to go – and quickly shut those thoughts down. A short while ago he would never have imagined himself feeling the way he did right now, it was useless to try and predict the future. Or have expectations. Experience had taught him that having expectations would only have negative results in the long run.

As he got up and set about making himself coffee, silently congratulating himself on not seeming desperate and calling Hannibal, his phone rang. He picked up.

“Hello.”

“Good morning, Will,” came Hannibal’s voice.

Will snorted, running a hand through his hair and wondering what the fuck he was so worried about. “Good morning.”

“How are you?”

“Awake five minutes and waiting desperately for my coffee to be done. What about you?”

“Awake for a slightly longer time and doing the same. How did you sleep?”

“Well, I’m sleeping slightly better since you stopped drugging my coffee,” Will said lightly, his eyebrow raised.

Hannibal was silent on the other end, but he could almost hear him smirking.

“But still not great,” he finished.

“Any nightmares?”

“Yeah. But nothing unbearable, I guess.”

“I don’t suppose you’d allow me to offer you anything to help with that?”

Will laughed, pouring his coffee into a mug and sitting down at the table. “No chance in hell.”

“Understandable,” Hannibal said, a smile in his voice.

“Why are you calling, by the way? Anything to report?”

“No. I simply wanted to hear your voice,” Hannibal replied.

“Huh,” Will said, marveling at how easy it was for Hannibal to say that.

“So what are your plans for today, Will?”

Will leaned back, sipping his coffee. “Don’t know yet. Go for a long walk with the dogs. Come home and take a long, hot shower. Maybe watch some TV. And…”

“And do some work for the case,” Hannibal finished for him. “Will, it’s your day off. You should have at least one day where you don’t think about it.”

“Do you?” Will shot back, absent-mindedly petting Winston’s head.

“…No,” Hannibal replied.

“Exactly.”

“Anyway. Would you like me to come by at some point? Then at least you won’t be working alone.”

Will ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.”

“Excellent. I’ll bring dinner.”

“All right.”

“Actually… even better, you can cook for me.”

“Uh, nah,” Will said, his mind frantically going to the contents of his fridge – beer, a couple of eggs and a single slice of cheese.

Hannibal chuckled. “Another time, then.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time before you can finally convince me to cook for you.”

“I’m willing to wait a long time.”

“I hope you like store-bought pizza.”

He could actually hear Hannibal’s lip curl. “…Please, don’t –”

Will snorted, draining his coffee. “I’m kidding. Sort of. Don’t worry, if I ever cook for you it won’t be pizza.”

“Thank god,” Hannibal muttered.

“Anyway, I’m going to go for that walk now. Call me when you’re about to leave?”

“Of course. See you soon, Will.”

He put the phone down, still grinning at the conversation, and rinsed out his mug. He turned in surprise when his phone rang again.

“Changed your mind about that pizza?” he asked teasingly when he picked up.

“What?” came Jack’s voice.

“Oh. Jack. Sorry, I thought it was someone else.”

“Whatever,” Jack said impatiently.

Will was immediately on edge at the sound of Jack’s voice. “Another murder.”

“Yes. But not the child killer.”

Will froze, realisation dawning. “What.”

“It’s the Chesapeake Ripper, Will. Freddie Lounds is dead.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the feedback <3 yes this one is late i can't even give proper reasons anymore except for the fact that i'm exhausted 24/7 and cant wait for this year to end :)))))) ANYWAY enjoy

**Chapter 14**

The sharp winter sun coming in from the window reflected off a flurry of red curls, giving some strands a golden glow. Other strands were matted with the red-brown of dried blood. Pale skin was specked with it.

Freddie Lounds was sitting at her desk inside her home, her laptop open in front of her and her hands at the keyboard, as if she were writing an article. Except her eyes were sewn shut and her fingers had been cut off and arranged neatly next to the laptop. Her tongue had also been cut out and was nowhere to be found.

“No offense, but I don’t think we need your empathy to understand the symbolism here,” Beverly muttered to Will.

Will swallowed, struggling to understand his feelings at seeing Freddie like this. “I should think not,” he murmured absent-mindedly.

“Tongue cut out so she can’t wag it anymore, eyes shut because she’s blinded herself from the truth, fingers cut off so she can’t do anymore damage. Am I getting it about right?” Jack said grimly.

“That’s the gist of it,” Will nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. His stomach felt like it was plummeting down to the ground, and his head was thumping with the beginning of a bad headache.

“Seems like he didn’t like reading about himself, after all,” Zeller said with a raised eyebrow.

“He… absolutely despises her,” Will said quietly.

“Weird, she hasn’t really written anything about him recently to trigger something like this,” Beverly remarked.

“Yeah,” Price said, “the only person she’s been writing about is—”

“Me,” Will said.

They were all quiet for a few minutes.

“So what does that mean?” Beverly wondered quietly, her brow furrowed as she looked at Will.

“It seems like he has taken offense at what she was writing about Will,” Jack said darkly.

Everyone was looking at him now with expressions he didn’t particularly like.

“Why do you think that is?” Jack then asked, crossing his arms and frowning.

Will gave a helpless shrug. “Fuck if I know.”

It was quiet again, and Will was feeling increasingly anxious to get the hell out.

“Are you sure this is the Ripper?” Jack finally asked, glancing at Freddie’s body.

“Yes,” Will said shortly, knowing that Jack knew this.

Jack gave a resigned nod, having no choice but to accept what was in front of him. “Well, then… I guess the Chesapeake Ripper is back.”

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“Cause of death is strangulation,” Beverly said.

“Anything else missing besides her tongue?” Jack asked.

Will stared, still not completely registering the body on the table.

“Her spleen’s been removed,” Zeller said quietly.

“Surgically, of course,” Price added.

“Of course,” Will muttered.

“Was her tongue not enough? He needs her spleen as a trophy, too?” Zeller said, shaking his head.

“Are you really going to try and understand the thinking of a psychopathic serial killer?” Price asked with raised eyebrows.

“I guess not.”

Jack frowned even more than he already was, which was quite an impressive feat. “What is the –"

“Jesus, she’s got something stuffed down her throat,” Beverly said suddenly.

Will looked up in mild concern as Jack, Zeller and Price crowded around the table to join her. After a lot of delicate pulling and tugging, two neatly folded pieces of paper were uncovered.

Beverly very carefully unfolded them and lay them out on a tray. “Fuck,” she breathed.

Jack looked at Will with a strange expression – worry mixed with something that looked like guilt.

Zeller and Price shot Will uneasy looks. Again, he was extremely unhappy with the expressions that were being sent his way.

 He neared the tray, although he didn’t have to get any closer to see what the pieces of paper were.

The last two articles she had written about him, printed out and folded and stuffed down her esophagus.

“She’s literally eating her words,” Zeller said slowly.

“Jesus. He’s, uh, really got a thing for you, huh?” Price said with a nervous laugh.

Will didn’t reply, not entirely sure the responses he wanted to give were appropriate for the situation.

Jack rubbed a hand over his neck, silent for a long time. “Let me know if you find anything else,” he then said quietly, before leaving the room.

Beverly cornered Will on the way to his car.

“Will, I’m like… actually worried about you right now,” she said matter-of-factly.

Will nudged her gently. “Don’t be.”

“Are you kidding me? Everything’s looking like the Ripper took revenge for you, dude. How can I not be worried about that?”

Will shrugged. “I guess you’ve got a point.”

“You don’t…” Beverly stopped, taking a breath and looking away.

“What?” Will asked warily.

“You don’t… know the Ripper, do you? Like, know who he is?”

Will frowned. “Beverly…”

“I know, I know. Dumb question. But all of this is making it seem like he knows you on a personal level. Or at least knows you enough to be angry about people talking shit about you. You can’t blame me for wondering, right?”

“No, I can’t. But I can blame you for thinking I would hide something like that.”

Beverly nodded. “You can. But –”

“Hiding my suicide attempt isn’t nearly the same as hiding something like that,” Will said coldly.

Beverly was quiet for a moment. “You’re right,” she said eventually. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Will didn’t reply.

“I’m just trying to make sense of this. I honestly don’t understand why else the Chesapeake Ripper would be taking tarnishing your name so personally. I mean, it’s not like it’s nuanced – he’s made it very clear that this was for you.”

Will nodded. “I know. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know why this is happening.”

Beverly put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “This is a hundred times more shitty for you than it is for anyone else. Sorry for those questions. Like I said, I’m just trying to make sense of the whole thing. I trust you, Will.”

Will nodded, putting his hand on hers briefly and feeling like he had just lied to her face.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

When Will got home that evening, he saw a Tupperware container sitting in front of his door. He cringed, pulling out his phone to see a few missed calls from Hannibal. He didn’t rightly know why he hadn’t told Hannibal about Lounds. He could guess why Jack hadn’t told him – he had invited Hannibal to consult on the Cradle Snatcher case, after all, not the Chesapeake Ripper case.

That meant that Will had gone and left without a single word to Hannibal. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, just like he wasn’t sure how he felt about the contents of the Tupperware.

He bent down and picked it up before going into his house. He went into his kitchen and opened the container. It was still a bit warm, and Will could only stare at the pieces of meat in the dish. He thought of the tongue they had eaten together, and subsequently threw the contents of the container into the trash.

Then he sat down on the couch and dialed Hannibal’s number.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Hannibal.”

“Is everything all right?”

Hannibal voice was a little cool, and Will chewed the inside of his cheek before answering.

“No, actually. I’ve just come home from a crime scene.”

“A crime scene? Another child?”

“Not a child, no. It’s… Freddie Lounds, actually.”

“Freddie Lounds is dead?” Hannibal’s voice was threaded with confusion.

“Yeah. The Chesapeake Ripper killed her.”

There was a long moment of silence. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“That is… unfortunate news.”

“Isn’t it.”

It was quiet again, only the quiet sounds of their breath breaking the silence.

“Do you want –”

“No. If you don’t mind, I need some time to myself tonight.”

It took Hannibal a second too long to reply. “Of course. Will you be all right?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Speak to you soon.”

“Enjoy your dinner, Will.”

Will paused, fairly certain he heard a mocking tone in Hannibal’s voice.

“Not that hungry tonight, actually,” he said slowly, keeping his tone light and leaning back onto the couch.

“That’s a shame. I do insist you eat something, though,” Hannibal said calmly.

“Maybe a piece of toast or something,” Will said.

“Well, it’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Good night, Hannibal.”

“Good night. And Will?”

“Yeah?”

“You know where to find me,” Hannibal said, and this time Will was sure there was something sly in his voice.

He hung up with a begrudging smile, and thought of all the times he’d wished Freddie Lounds was dead. Now that it was reality, he couldn’t bring himself to pretend he felt bad about wishing for it.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

That night Will dreamt of Hannibal kissing him, his mouth filled with blood.

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“So, Freddie Lounds is dead.”

Alana was staring at him, her eyes clouded with concern.

“I know,” Will said with raised eyebrows. “I was there to see exactly how that happened.”

Alana swallowed, her jaw set. “I can’t imagine that was pleasant.”

Will stopped himself from shrugging just in time. “Not particularly, no.”

“The Chesapeake Ripper has resurfaced after years of silence.”

He wondered if she was going to just keep stating facts. “Yup. It would seem so.”

“How does that make you feel, Will?”

Will gave a cold smile. “How does that make _you_ feel, Alana?”

“Afraid,” Alana replied, unflinching. “This is the first time he’s struck so close to home.”

“It’s not like you knew her personally.”

“No, but I knew her. You knew her personally. You and Jack and Hannibal. That’s what frightens me.”

“You think he’s going to target one of us?” Will said, pondering the irony of it all.

“I don’t know. That’s what makes me afraid. You know that most of Freddie’s last articles were about you, don’t you?”

“I sure do.”

“So he knows who you are. Some might even argue that it’s because of that that he killed Freddie.”

“Would you?”

Alana shook her head, eyes turning to her coffee. “I don’t know.” She took a sip of the coffee, wincing at the fact that it had gone cold in the meantime. “Aren’t you afraid?” she then asked quietly.

Will supposed he probably should be. “To be honest, I can’t even really place it. There’s too much going on right now to figure out how I feel. There’s still the Cradle Snatcher. Amongst other things.” It was a half-truth.

Alana nodded. “I understand. Just – Will?”

He looked up. “Yes?”

“Please… be careful.”

He nodded slowly. “Of course.”

He wondered what difference him being careful would make when the Chesapeake Ripper had killed for years without being caught. He decided not to voice this to Alana, though.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

After he got home, he lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with two questions floating around in his mind. Two questions he couldn’t rightly answer.

_Aren’t you afraid?_

_Aren’t you curious?_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello this is late i know my life is a mess anyway ENJOY

**Chapter 15**

Hannibal opened the door, his eyebrows raising a fraction in surprise. “Will. What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in.”

Will smiled, stepping inside and shrugging off his coat.

“Is something wrong?” Hannibal asked, taking Will’s coat and hanging it up.

“No. Just felt like seeing you, if that’s okay,” Will said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hannibal smiled. “Of course it is. Come, I’ll make us some coffee.”

Will followed him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Hannibal started making coffee.

“How are you feeling about Freddie Lounds’ murder?” Hannibal then asked, eyes on the French press.

Will crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows. “I’m feeling that she’s dead.”

“It’s certain it’s the Chesapeake Ripper, then.”

“Oh, yes. No doubt in anyone’s mind,” Will said quietly, taking in Hannibal’s movements.

Hannibal caught his eye. “I imagine Jack isn’t too happy about that.”

Will snorted. “That’s putting it lightly.”

“Can I be of any help?” Hannibal asked, handing Will his cup of coffee.

A bemused smile pulled at Will’s mouth, and he took the coffee, his fingers brushing against Hannibal’s. “Perhaps.”

Hannibal returned the smile, so small it was barely there.

“What do you know about the Ripper?” Will asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Hannibal’s expression turned thoughtful. “I know that he has been killing for years. He takes surgical trophies of his victims.”

“I wonder what he does with those trophies,” Will said.

“Serial killers often take trophies to display somewhere for them to look at,” Hannibal commented, guiding him to sit down at the table.

“Yeah, the Chesapeake Ripper isn’t your average serial killer, though.”

“What do you think he does with the trophies?” Hannibal asked, raising an eyebrow.

Will held his gaze for a while, before looking down at his coffee with a reluctant smile. “I have some ideas.”

“I’d love to hear them.”

“Maybe some other time.”

“May I inquire as to why not this time?” Hannibal asked, his voice amused.

Will shrugged, draining his coffee. “I need to do some thinking on the subject.”

Hannibal nodded. “I understand.”

They were quiet for a while, the only sound coming from Will’s fingers tapping lightly on the table.

“Are you uncomfortable, Will?” Hannibal then asked quietly.

Will frowned in confusion. “No. Why?”

“When you tap your fingers it usually means you feel discomfort.”

Will stopped tapping. “I usually don’t even realise I’m doing it.”

Hannibal smiled. “I know. That doesn’t make what I said untrue.”

Will returned the smile coolly. “I’m not uncomfortable, no. Wary would be a better word.”

“Wary? Of what?” Hannibal’s eyes were wide in apparent confusion.

Will held his gaze, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I’m not entirely sure yet, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed a fraction at the use of the formality, his head tilting. “It sounds like you may be wary of me, Mr. Graham.”

Will’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Whatever made you come to that conclusion?”

He stood, and Hannibal joined him. They looked at each other wordlessly for a moment. “Simply a hunch,” Hannibal eventually replied, his voice quiet as his eyes discreetly watched Will’s every movement.

He didn’t back away as Will neared him, though Will could see from his posture that he was ready to move at any second.

Will put his hand on his shoulder, giving him a smile which felt odd even to him. Hannibal put his hand on the back of Will’s neck, his fingers curling through the hair on the nape of his neck.

Will leaned forward and kissed him; a slow, testing kiss. Will could feel Hannibal’s confusion, his carefulness. He enjoyed it immensely.

When they finally pulled away, Hannibal held him still, looking at him as if he was trying to pull answers from him with his eyes alone. “You are full of surprises, Will Graham,” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from Will’s eyes.

Will snorted. “You’re one to talk.”

Hannibal smiled. “I suppose you have a point.”

“I often do.”

He pulled away, sitting back down at the table. Hannibal poured them both another cup of coffee.

“Are there any leads?” he then asked, his eyebrows raised.

Will shook his head. “The Chesapeake Ripper doesn’t leave any leads.”

“I suppose not. Our friend Jack must frustrated beyond words.”

Hannibal sounded genuine in his sympathy.

“Yeah. Two killers to deal with now, and one of them all too familiar for him.”

“It can’t be an easy time.”

“For anyone,” Will said quietly.

Hannibal looked at him, his gaze unreadable. “Are you saddened by Freddie Lounds’ death, Will?”

Will cleared his throat. “Saddened? No.”

Hannibal held his gaze. “Then what?”

Will looked away, his fingers twitching on his jeans. “What do you want me to say?”

Hannibal shook his head, a smile pulling at his mouth. “I want you to be honest. With me, and with yourself.”

“Let’s not talk about honesty, shall we?” Will snapped, running a hand through his hair.

“Why is this such a difficult question for you to answer, Will?” Hannibal asked, unperturbed.

Will glared at him, staying stubbornly silent.

“Is it perhaps because you don’t like the answer?” Hannibal then asked quietly.

“I don’t like the question,” Will said, standing up.

Hannibal chuckled.

“I mean it, Hannibal. Drop it,” Will warned.

Hannibal looked at him, one corner of his mouth still tugged up into a smirk, before nodding. “As you wish, Will. I do hope it gives you some food for thought, though.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered, increasingly anxious to change the subject.

“I’ve been thinking about hosting a dinner party soon,” Hannibal then said, as if he could read his mind.

Will glanced at him. “Have fun with that.”

Hannibal gave him an indulgent smile. “I would like you to come.”

Will blinked. “Huh?” he said intelligently.

Hannibal moved closer to him, brushing a hand across his cheek. “Is that really so strange to you?”

Will ran a hand through his hair, frowning. “Um. I guess not. I’m afraid I’ll have to say no, though.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “And might I ask why?”

Will chuckled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m good company for a dinner party.”

“Nonsense. I happen to find your company very enjoyable. So will the other guests, I assure you. You’re a lot more charming than you think, Will.”

Will laughed. “Yes, I remember me being exceptionally charming during the first few weeks of us knowing each other.”

Hannibal smirked. “I admit I haven’t been able to enjoy that charm much personally, but I have witnessed it.”

“Listen, I know I can be charming. It’s something I use to my advantage. But it’s not something I want to keep up for an entire evening.”

“I’m not asking you to keep anything up,” Hannibal said. “Even on your worst days you are better company than any of the guests I invite. Besides,” he took Will’s hand, “I would very much appreciate your presence.”

Will looked him for a while before giving his hand a squeeze and letting go. “I’ll think about it.”

Hannibal beamed. “That’s all I can ask for.”

“Would you be inviting anyone I know?” Will asked, wrapping his hands around the still-warm, empty coffee cup.

“Agent Crawford, Dr. Bloom and Dr. Chilton.”

“Ugh,” Will said with a grimace.  “You’re not really giving me a lot of reason to come.”

Hannibal smiled. “Not even with my own presence?”

Will rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Like I said, I’ll think about it.”

Hannibal nodded and it was quiet for a while, the two of them regarding each other in comfortable silence.

“How do _you_ feel about Freddie Lounds’ death?” Will then asked quietly, unable to let it go despite himself.

Hannibal chuckled. “You refuse to answer yourself and yet expect me to?”

Will shrugged.

“How about this –” Hannibal leaned forward, hands resting on the table – “I’ll answer if you do.”

Will looked at him, saw the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, and grimaced. “Fine. You first.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “Nothing.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“No. Except…” Hannibal paused, unlike him, and Will could see he was choosing his next words carefully. “Except that she brought it upon herself.”

Will nodded slowly. “I see.”

“Your turn,” Hannibal murmured, his eyes roaming over Will’s face, as if trying to pull the answers from him.

Will nodded again. “Same,” he then said quietly.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “Was that really so difficult to say?”

“It’s not exactly something that’s acceptable to say about someone’s murder.”

“Perhaps not in different company.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “But in your company…”

Hannibal smiled, a cruel hint to it. “Nothing is off limits.”

Will shook his head, leaning back and making a frustrated sound. “Who are you, Hannibal Lecter?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “You know who I am.”

“I know who you are to the rest of the world. I know the Hannibal perfectly constructed to fit inside society. But there’s more than that.” Will paused, suddenly overwhelmed by an emotion he didn’t want to name. “There’s someone – or something – hidden underneath that façade, lurking underneath your skin. Something I’ve seen glimpses of, something you keep so carefully hidden.”

Hannibal didn’t reply, a slow smile forming.

“You’re playing a game. With everyone. Even with me,” Will said, waiting for the anger he knew was supposed to come. It didn’t.

“So are you,” Hannibal said, tilting his head.

Will nodded, not being able to deny this. “We are playing a game with each other.”

“I wonder who is winning,” Hannibal smiled.

Will smiled back. “I have a fair idea.”

This made Hannibal laugh, and Will caught yet another glimpse of what was under the veil.

“Tell me, Will,” he said after a few moments of silence. “What exactly do you think it is I am working so hard to hide?”

Will felt a grin spread across his face. “A monster,” he whispered.

Hannibal returned the grin. “That is a bold accusation. And one that doesn’t seem to bother you very much.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “I never said I disliked it.”

Something changed in Hannibal’s eyes then, and he slowly leaned forward, putting his hand on Will’s wrist. Will glanced down at their hands, allowing Hannibal a few seconds before taking his hand and threading their fingers together.

“You’re not afraid,” Hannibal remarked quietly, his thumb stroking the back of Will’s hand, “but your pulse is heightened.”

Will didn’t reply, holding Hannibal’s gaze.

“Is that excitement, Will?” Hannibal then said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Maybe it is,” Will replied, his voice no louder than Hannibal’s.

“Is that why you were so reluctant to tell me how you felt about Lounds’ death? Because a part of you is excited?”

Will chewed the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t necessarily the thought of Freddie being dead that excited him. It was something else. Something he wasn’t even completely sure he could name yet.

“What a fascinating person you are, Will,” Hannibal murmured.

Will turned their hands over and laid his fingers on Hannibal’s wrist. He smiled. Hannibal returned it.

“Is that excitement, Hannibal?” Will asked, a mocking tone in his voice.

“Maybe it is,” Hannibal echoed, although there was a tiny tremble in his fingers, which Will wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t holding his hand.

Will realised Hannibal was just as much out of his depth as Will was. This gave him more pleasure than he expected. He lifted Hannibal’s hand to his face and pressed his lips to the inside of his wrist. He watched Hannibal’s lips part ever so slightly, his eyes darkening. Will inhaled the scent of Hannibal’s cologne, pressing another kiss to his wrist before letting go.

Hannibal slowly pulled his hand back, laying it on the table again.

“Who are you, Will Graham?” he murmured.

“I’m still figuring that out myself,” Will said with a wry smile.

“I am not easily surprised, Will. And yet you… you have managed to surprise me often.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Whoever it is that you are – you are nothing like anyone I have ever met before.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, too.”

Hannibal gave him an odd smile. “You should.”

“And I can say the same for you.”

“I wonder,” Hannibal then said, “what will happen when one of us wins this game.”

Will tilted his head. “You say that as if you think this game will have a definitive end.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it will?”

Will was quiet for a moment. “Maybe a part of me hopes it won’t.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I don’t know what this ending will look like.”

Hannibal smirked. “You sound worried, Will.”

Will gave a cool smile. “I’m not. What do you think will happen once it ends?”

Hannibal took his hand again, looking at his palm as he traced it lightly with his finger. “I see this ending one of two ways. I will leave those ways up for interpretation.”

“Don’t want to give too much away,” Will muttered, his hand twitching in Hannibal’s.

Hannibal’s grip tightened ever so slightly on his hand. “You needn’t be afraid of me, Will.”

Will smiled. “That sounded so sincere, I’m almost inclined to believe it.”

Hannibal laughed again, letting go of his hand. When he next spoke, he sounded more serious. “I mean it. Of all the things you should be afraid of in this world… I am not one of them.”

“I’ll count myself lucky, then.”

“No, this has nothing to do with luck. This has everything to do with you, Will. And your mind, and your soul.”

“As black as yours?” Will murmured.

Hannibal didn’t reply, his gaze lingering just a little too long to be comfortable.

“I should go,” Will then said quietly.

Hannibal nodded slowly, and they both stood up. Will turned but Hannibal grabbed his wrist, turning him back and kissing him until he was breathless, until there was no one but them in the entire world, him and his mind and his soul sinking into tantalising, inky blackness.

Hannibal pulled back, his fingers trailing along Will’s cheek and they stared at each other, both slightly out of breath.

“I’ll see you again soon, Will,” Hannibal whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone.

Will nodded. “Until next time,” he muttered, and he squeezed Hannibal’s hand before turning, grabbing his coat and leaving the house in a weird mixture of feeling dazed and feeling like his eyes had been opened for the first time in his life.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank youuuu for the feedback and your patience because life is severely getting in the way of my writing and it sucks ass. BUT we will prevail okay enjoy <3

**Chapter 16**

There had been yet another murder, sometime overdue some would say. Will’s eyes glazed over as he stood by the latest victim, all of the children merging into one. So many deaths. So much pain. He wasn’t sure if he could hardly bear it anymore, or if he had become numb to it.

Jack’s voice sounded muffled in his ears, and he responded the way he always did with these murders – he couldn’t see the killer clearly.

Standing there, in front of 9-year-old Jessie Winter’s body – what was left of it, anyway -- he vaguely realised he was dangerously close to sinking back to that place where he was ready to jump off that bridge.

He turned to look at Jack, saw his lips moving but didn’t hear what he was saying, and he could feel the weight of anger, frustration and guilt resting on Jack’s shoulders. He hadn’t even had time to take a proper breath from the Chesapeake Ripper murder before this other killer struck again.

A while later, he realised they were in Jack’s office, Hannibal sitting beside him. He blinked, suddenly very aware of Hannibal sending him discreet but concerned looks.

Whatever Jack was saying was interrupted by a knock at the door, and someone came in and handed Jack a letter, saying it was addressed to him.

“There’s no return address,” Jack said, frowning as he inspected the letter.

“That’s peculiar,” Hannibal said, his eyes darting back to Will every so often.

Jack raised his eyebrows in agreement, opening the letter quickly. He pulled out a newspaper clipping and frowned when he saw that it was an excerpt from an article about Abigail Hobbs’ murder. He read over it, his frown visibly deepening.

“He’s circled some letters,” Jack finally said, handing over the clipping to Will.

The letters danced before his eyes, some clearly circled with a red pen, and he briefly closed his eyes and willed them to focus. Willed himself to come back to earth, at least for now. He took a breath, scanning over the clipping, finally more aware of himself and his surroundings. Jack was already grabbing a pencil and a notepad by the time Will had handed it to Hannibal.

The latter handed it back to Jack, who started writing the letters down. The room was silent for the next few minutes, save the scratching of Jack’s pencil on paper and the ticking of a clock on the wall. When he was done, he leaned back and crossed his arms, staring at the paper.

“This… makes no fucking sense.”

Will raised an eyebrow, snatching the paper from his desk. On it was scribbled:

_Am delightedly sane  
Ram wretchedness eerie as lily vomit_

He stared at it for a while, eventually handing it over to Hannibal.

“I agree,” he said, avoiding Hannibal’s eyes as the latter handed the paper back to Jack.

“At least, not like this,” Hannibal said calmly.

Will nodded, already having realised that. “It’s an anagram.”

Jack snatched up the piece of paper, glaring at it. “I think you’re right. Hell of a long one, too.”

Hannibal smiled, holding out his hand. “Give it to me. I think I might be able to solve it.”

Jack nodded, handing it over. “How long will you need?”

“I’ll have it back to you by tomorrow.”

He nodded again. “Good.”

Will and Hannibal both stood up to leave. Jack raised his hand, making them both pause. “Will. A moment, please.”

Will slowly sat back down, and Hannibal threw him a glance, evidently reluctant in leaving him. He left the room and quietly shut the door nonetheless.

“What is it?” Will asked, trying not to show his discomfort too much.

“How are you doing?” Jack asked after a moment of silence.

Will blinked, swallowed. “At the moment?”

Jack nodded.

“Fine.”

Jack looked at him for a while, eyes slightly narrowed, seemingly in thought. “Don’t think I missed you zoning out on us, Will.”

Will blinked again. “Uh,” he said intelligently.

Jack nodded. “’Uh’ is right. Where did you go?”

Will took a breath, letting it out slowly. “Too far into my own head,” he admitted.

Jack nodded again. “I suspected as much. Can you explain it?”

Will bit the inside of his cheek, looking away as he thought. “It’s a… a buildup of things. Sometimes I lose myself in it.”

“Well, I can understand things building up. I’ll admit, it affects me too. Is your personal life part of this?”

Will swallowed, taken aback by the question. He thought of Hannibal and his conversation. He nodded slowly.

Jack nodded as well. “I expected as much. I get if you don’t want to talk to me about it, but I think you need to talk to someone. How about Hannibal?”

Will barely contained a wry chuckle. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Either way, Will, I need you to tell me when things are too much. I won’t always be able to tell. And I don’t want to be responsible for…” Jack paused, pursing his lips. “For something happening to you.”

Will nodded, torn between feeling incredibly uncomfortable and appreciative towards Jack.

“Anything else you’d like to tell me?” Jack asked with a raised eyebrow.

Will shook his head. “No.”

“All right then. Go home. Pretty sure Hannibal’s waiting for you.”

Will looked at Jack and his raised eyebrows, and decided not to comment on this. “All right. Bye.”

As predicted, Hannibal was waiting for him outside. Not right outside Jack’s door, to his credit, but outside the building. And he was talking to someone Will really didn’t want to see at that moment. Or ever, really.

In the seconds that it took him to debate whether to just walk on like he hadn’t seen them, Dr. Chilton noticed him and called him over. He grit his teeth and walked up to them.

“Mr. Graham. What a pleasant surprise,” Chilton said with a wide smile.

“Really?” Will glanced up at the building behind them. “I work here.”

Hannibal gave him a subtle smile and Chilton faltered for a moment. “Of course. It was just a surprise to run into you and Dr. Lecter simultaneously.” His voice had more of an edge to it, this time.

Will gave him a dry smile and nodded. “Of course.”

“Dr. Lecter and I were just discussing his upcoming dinner party. I understand you’re invited?” Chilton tilted his head at him, as if trying to figure out exactly how he’d managed that.

“I am. I’m just not sure whether I’ll be able to attend,” Will said shortly.

“Oh, why is that?” Chilton asked curiously.

Will bit the inside of his cheek, trying to decide whether he should just tell Chilton to fuck off.

“Will told me he might have other arrangements,” Hannibal said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh. Well, that’s rather rude, isn’t it?” Chilton said with a chuckle. “I’d be quite offended if someone responded with an answer like that to an invitation to my dinner party.”

“Will is welcome to respond as he pleases,” Hannibal said with a tight smile.

“Well,” Chilton said, his smile fading at Hannibal not agreeing with him, “you’re a better man than I, Dr. Lecter.”

“Undoubtedly,” Will said pleasantly.

Chilton gave a him a look but – to his credit – didn’t respond. “Anyway, Dr. Lecter, I’m sorry to end our conversation so soon but I must be going. I have an appointment inside. Mr. Graham.”

He nodded at them both before going inside, letting the door slam shut behind him.

“I fear one day your tongue will land you in some unfortunate situations,” Hannibal said quietly as they walked away from the building.

Will snorted. “Being in close proximity to Chilton is already an unfortunate situation.”

Hannibal chuckled. “You have a point.”

“So what did he want?” Will asked.

Hannibal gave a small shrug. “Nothing in particular. He was curious as to who was invited.”

Will nodded.

“And what did Jack want?”

Will gave a wry smile. “To know how I was doing.”

Hannibal looked at him, his expression serious. “I understand the sentiment. You looked unwell, Will.”

Will avoided his gaze. “I felt unwell.”

Hannibal put his hand on Will’s. “Care to come by tonight and tell me about it?”

“Don’t you have an anagram to solve?” Will replied coolly.

“You can assist me, if you like,” Hannibal said, unperturbed.

Will opened the door to his car, tossing his bag into the passenger seat. “I’ll think about it,” he said shortly.

Before Hannibal had time to respond, Will got into the car and closed the door. Hannibal stepped back to move out of the way, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed Will. The latter forced himself to look away and drove away.

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint where the animosity towards Hannibal was coming from, exactly. He had some ideas, but the precise reason was impossible to grasp.

He strongly suspected that Hannibal made him feel good. Hannibal, and everything that came with him. Maybe _especially_ everything that came with him, even.

That was more worrisome than he cared to admit.

He felt like Hannibal brought something out in him, and he wasn’t sure whether this was the worst or best version of himself. He thought he knew himself reasonably well. There was something inside him, a potential, that he never neared and kept locked up beside the occasional visits to his dreams.

Hannibal was dragging this part of him out of the shadows and grooming it, feeding it. And it troubled him to say that he was starting to feel more himself than he ever had before.

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A few hours later, he found himself at Hannibal’s door, having rang the doorbell before he could stop himself.

“Will,” Hannibal said when he opened the door, a small smile appearing. “I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“Me neither. Sorry, I should have called ahead. It was kind of an impulse decision.”

Hannibal shook his head. “No need to apologise. Please, come in. I’ve just cooked dinner.”

Will glanced up at him at this, catching his eye. They exchanged subtle smiles and Will followed him inside.

“I don’t suppose there’s a vegetarian option?” Will said lightly, shrugging off his coat and hanging it up.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you turned vegetarian, Will?”

“I haven’t. Just don’t particularly feel like meat, today,” Will replied, following Hannibal into the dining room.

“I’m afraid it’s predominantly meat on tonight’s menu. Is that all right?” Hannibal asked, pouring them both a glass of wine.

Will shook his head, smiling. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

Hannibal returned the smile. “I’m glad. I’ll be right back.”

Will leaned back, slowly sipping his wine.

“I must admit –” Hannibal started as he entered the room again, bringing in their plates – “if you hadn’t shown up, I would have been tempted to come to you, instead.”

“Why? Worried I’d go and speak to someone?” Will said with a raised eyebrow, regarding the food on his plate. It looked and smelled delicious. As always.

“Worried about you,” Hannibal corrected him, picking up his knife and fork. “Bon appétit.”

After a second of hesitation, Will resigned himself to his fate and speared a piece of meat with his fork. Hannibal was watching him and doing a bad job at hiding it, so Will ceremoniously opened his mouth and bit down on the food. Hannibal looked at his own plate with a smile and Will rolled his eyes.

It _was_ really good meat.

“Tell me about what happened today,” Hannibal said, his expression turning solemn.

Will took a moment to chew and swallow before answering. “Let’s save that for after dinner.”

Hannibal nodded. “As you wish.”

“How far along are you with the anagram?”

“I’m fairly certain I’ve almost solved it. I’ll show you later, if you like.”

Will nodded.

“And what have you been doing in the meantime?”

Will frowned. “In the few hours between leaving the BAU and driving here?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Nothing. I fed my dogs and let them out. I lay on the couch. I don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting.”

Hannibal took a breath, and Will wondered with a tingle of excitement if he was finally testing his patience.

“I’m not expecting any kind of answer, Will. I just like to know what you do when you’re alone and you’re not feeling like yourself.”

Will paused, slightly taken aback. “…Oh. Well, that, I guess.”

“I do marvel at your distrust of me sometimes, Will.”

Will raised his eyebrows so high it felt like they were disappearing into his hairline. “Right, because you’ve given me no reason at all to distrust you.”

Hannibal took a moment before answering. “Like I said before, Will,” he then said quietly, “I would never do anything to harm you.”

“I think your definition of harming someone and mine are a bit different.”

“All right. Then tell me this, Will. Why are you here?”

Will paused. “What?”

“Why are you here?” Hannibal repeated simply. “You claim you do not trust me, you speak often of my hiding something, you scrutinise everything I do. You seem to be almost constantly on guard in my presence. So I am curious. Why do you still visit me?”

Will put down his cutlery, swallowing harshly. “I…” Whatever he wanted to say died in his throat, and he looked at his plate.

Hannibal stood and walked over to him, leaning over him to pour him more wine. “You what?”

When Will didn’t reply, he walked back to his seat and sat down, carefully pushing his plate aside. “Would you like to know what I think?”

Will glared at him, pushing his plate aside a lot less carefully. Hannibal smiled.

“I think I excite you. I think a part of you is afraid to be with me, not because you are afraid of me, but because you are afraid of yourself and what you are capable of. You see darkness and revel in it.”

Will bit his tongue, still staying stubbornly quiet.

“You know you can achieve your true potential with me,” Hannibal murmured, holding his gaze. “And that frightens you.”

It was quiet for a long time.

“You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you,” Will finally muttered, downing his wine in one go.

“I usually do,” Hannibal said modestly.

“You’re insufferable,” Will snapped, standing up.

“Bold accusation coming from you,” Hannibal replied, obviously amused.

“Thanks for dinner. See you,” Will said coldly, moving past Hannibal.

The latter’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “I don’t think so,” he murmured, standing up as well. “How long are we going to do this dance?”

“You’re right, it’s growing tiresome,” Will said, pulling his wrist out of Hannibal’s grasp. “So why don’t we –”

“If you’re about to propose we stop seeing each other, I’m afraid I won’t let you finish the thought.”

“—Stop seeing each other,” Will finished, turning and heading towards the hallway.

He gasped in surprise when Hannibal grabbed his shoulder and shoved him up against the wall. “Like I said,” Hannibal said pleasantly, his face inches away from Will’s – “I won’t let you finish the thought.”

“Get off, Hannibal,” Will snarled, shoving back.

“I will let you go only when you are honest with me,” Hannibal said calmly.

“And if I refuse?” Will said breathlessly.

Hannibal smiled, his teeth showing as his gaze fell to Will’s lips. “You’ll find out.”

Will debated kneeing Hannibal in between his legs before deciding that would probably not be worth it.

“What am I supposed to be honest about?” he snapped, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“Am I right about what I said?”

Will bit his lip, looking away stubbornly. Hannibal’s one hand found its way to his crotch and the other to his neck, both squeezing hard. Will wasn’t sure if his strangled gasp was from pleasure or discomfort.

“Will?” Hannibal whispered.

He still refused to answer, and Hannibal squeezed harder. Will’s knees almost buckled, and he could feel himself becoming dizzy from lack of oxygen.

“H – how –”

Hannibal’s grip on his throat eased and Will panted, catching his breath for a few moments. “How do you expect me to answer if you’re squeezing my windpipe?”

“I’m currently not. Go ahead.”

Will glared at him, partly not wanting to answer and partly enjoying Hannibal’s hand around his neck.

“All right,” Hannibal said simply, resuming his grip.

Hannibal unzipped Will’s pants and this time his knees did buckle, the only thing holding him up being Hannibal’s hand firmly around his neck.

“This won’t work if you’re enjoying it,” he murmured thoughtfully.

Will couldn’t conceal the grin spreading across his face, and Hannibal returned it.

“Nevertheless. At one point you’ll run out of breath. I’ll give you one last chance, Will. After this, I’m not letting go.”

“How is choking me out going to give you answers?” Will gasped, Hannibal’s hand easing yet again.

“It won’t. But it will give me your body to do with as I please.”

Will froze, his eyes widening. “What do you—”

“I’ll let you use your imagination for that. Now, you’ve got five seconds. Just a simple yes or no, Will. One.”

Hannibal’s grip tightened just a fraction. “Two.” It tightened more.

Will calculated his chances of getting away, quickly realising they were bleak.

“Three.”

Will’s hands made their way to Hannibal’s face, and Hannibal turned his head, biting down on his finger.

“Four.”

Hannibal squeezed his crotch, painfully so, and he let out a strangled groan, arguing fervently with the part of himself that was thoroughly enjoying this.

“Five—”

“Yes,” Will gasped, his hands scrabbling at Hannibal’s fingers.

Hannibal pulled him closer by his neck, hand still tight around it. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Will glared at him. “I said yes. Yes, you sadistic –”

“Good.” Hannibal let go of him, and he leaned against the wall, catching his breath.

“Was that really so hard?” Hannibal asked, tilting his head.

“Fuck off,” Will panted, running a hand through his hair.

“Will…”

He looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Do you really want to go?” Hannibal asked, his tone and expression unreadable.

Will gave a disbelieving laugh. “At the moment?”

“I am serious, Will. Do you want to leave?”

Will let out a breath, leaning back against the wall. It was quiet for a long while, neither of them talking as they regarded each other.

“No,” Will then said quietly, pulling Hannibal towards him roughly and kissing him.

The beautifully plated dessert lay forgotten on the kitchen counter, not to be cleaned away until the following morning.

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_THEIR DEAD, ALL-SEEING EYES_

_WATCH OVER ME STILL, IN MY DREAMS_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me while writing this: damn yall fucked up lol


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello thank you etc etc this might be getting old but i REALLY appreciate you guys just fyi <3 enjoy babes

**Chapter 17**

“’Their dead, all-seeing eyes watch over me still in my dreams.” Jack’s voice was grim as he read the words aloud. He glanced up at Hannibal and Will. “You’re sure this is right?”

Hannibal gave a cold smile, and Will hid his amusement at Hannibal being offended at the question, despite the situation.

“Quite,” he said pleasantly.

Jack nodded. “All right. Will? Any thoughts?”

Between… whatever it was that had happened last night and the strange, surreal bliss that had surrounded them this morning, he had hardly had any time to let the sinister words register.

Wordlessly, he stood up and picked up the piece of paper from Jack’s desk. He read the words over and over again, little pieces falling into place each time he reread them.

Until all at once, something clicked.

Will took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes drawing wide with – finally, _finally_ – realisation.

“He was sexually abused as a child. Often. Very often. And it was recorded on camera and seen by many others. He was made to undergo these acts in a room filled with people, all of them with their own agendas. He still sees the cameras flashing in his dreams.”

“Was he –” Jack stopped himself, apparently coming to a more important conclusion. In a lowered voice, he asked, “Is he doing the same to his victims?”

Will swallowed. “Yes.”

Jack dropped a defeated fist on the desk. “God fucking damn it.”

“That means…” Hannibal started.

“That there are videos of all the victims,” Will finished quietly.

“Online?” Jack asked sharply.

Will nodded slowly.

Jack stood abruptly. “Then we need to find them.”

“They won’t be easy to find,” Will muttered.

“Obviously. But we will find them. And him,” Jack said darkly.

Will nodded. Jack’s words left no room for argument.

“Maybe he has made them easier to find,” Hannibal said, “since he himself wants to be found.”

Will shook his head. “No. Those videos… mean something to him. Represent a very personal, vulnerable side of him that he doesn’t show to the rest of the world. He won’t be advertising them.”

“Except for the audio he gave us,” Jack deadpanned.

“That was different. That was a cry for help. A last resort. He never wanted to give us that recording.”

“If he’s making it so easy for us to find him, why not just turn himself in and get it over with?” Jack said, frustrated.

Will gave a wry smile. “C’mon, Jack. When has it ever been that simple?”

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“He’s becoming more and more clear. Finally,” Will muttered.

Hannibal put a possessive hand around his waist, peering over the pictures with him. “Tell me.”

“The sexual abuse started at a very young age. It was being done to him by someone he loved, someone he trusted. It carried on until… until it didn’t.”

“Did he kill the perpetrator?”

Will nodded, his hand moving to Hannibal’s, resting on his side. “He believed – believes – himself to be broken, impure. In need of punishment.”

“Not redemption?”

“Redemption… requires a soul. He doesn’t have one. Or rather, he doesn’t believe he does.”

Hannibal took a breath as if wanting to say something but changed his mind at the last moment. Will noticed that the more time they were spending together, the more Hannibal was doing things he would have previously considered uncharacteristic. “What else?” he said instead.

“Spent his life isolated, crippled by loneliness. No friendships – no sustainable ones, anyway – same goes for relationships. It has been, and always will be, just him and his memories and his mind. Forever replaying the things that were done to him. Always thinking of himself as unlovable, undeserving of anything. Not even a place on this earth.”

“So why is he still here?”

Will took a breath. “He’s… punishing himself. Punishing himself for his thoughts, his actions, his past.”

“Then tell me…” Hannibal paused, his free hand lightly brushing the picture of Abigail Hobbs. “Why is he killing children?”

“Because they’re the same as him,” Will said grimly. “Impure. Dirty. Soulless.”

“But he is the one making them so.”

Will nodded.

“And he has shown some form of… guilt, or remorse.”

Will nodded again. “It’s like he… he can’t help himself. This is something he needs to do. He needs to rid the world of these children. And I don’t know whether that’s because he wants to save them or to punish them.”

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“Have you given any consideration to attending the dinner party?” Hannibal asked as they made their way through the building, Hannibal on his way out and Will on his way to his next lecture.

“I have,” Will said lightly.

Hannibal gave him an indulgent smile, raising his eyebrow. “And?”

“I’ll come. If I can bring Beverly.”

“Miss Katz?”

Will nodded.

“She is most welcome. Especially if it makes you happy.”

“It would.”

Hannibal nodded. “Then I look forward to having you both for dinner.”

Will glared at him as Hannibal turned away, barely containing his smirk. “See you.”

Hannibal pulled him in for a kiss, taking Will by surprise, and left before he could say anything.

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“A dinner party, huh?”

It was one of the rare occasions when he and Beverly actually went to sit in a café for coffee. It was quiet and, most importantly, warm. Beverly’s cheeks still hadn’t lost their rosy colour from the cold outside, and Will imagined his nose to look the same.

“Yeah. I’m only going if you are, so.”

Beverly raised her eyebrows. “Well, that doesn’t put any pressure on me at all. Who’s invited?”

Will took a breath. “Alana, Jack, Chilton…  and a bunch of people I don’t know.”

“Huh. I don’t know, Will… they’re not really my type of people. And Jack’s my boss.”

Will deflated a little, nodding. “Yeah, I get it. It’s fine –”

“I’m kidding. Are you serious? A chance to see Dr. Lecter’s home, and not have to watch what I say in Jack’s presence? I wouldn’t miss that for anything,” she said with a grin.

Will tried to look disapproving, but failed, his smile showing. “Not sure those are the right reasons, but sure.”

“And being able to witness you and Dr. Lecter outside of a professional environment? Hell, I’ll take the seat beside you two.”

Will frowned. “That’s weird.”

Beverly shrugged. “I’m a curious soul. Anyway, count me in.”

Will nodded. “All right. Thanks, Beverly. I hope you’re not a vegetarian.”

Beverly gave him an odd smile. “I’m not. Why, is Lecter famous for his meat dishes?”

Will gave her a wry smile in return. “Something like that.”

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As it turned out, Will and Beverly did get to sit next to each other with Hannibal at the head of the table and Will on his right side. Beverly next to him, Alana next to her, and next to Alana a beautiful but cool young woman he presumed to be Alana’s girlfriend. On Hannibal’s other side sat Chilton with beside him Jack, and beside him a stunning blonde woman Will didn’t know either. He quickly guessed Hannibal had arranged the seating based on his own interest; or even amusement, with his sitting Chilton and Will opposite each other. Along the rest of the table were other guests Will didn’t know, who had all formally introduced themselves but he had almost instantly forgotten. The wine was being poured aplenty, and the first course had been served. The meal was being consumed with hearty chatter, although there was a lull in conversation on their side of the table.

“Hannibal, this lamb is delectable. You must give me the name of your butcher,” a tall, imposing black haired woman said from a few seats away from them.

There was a murmur of agreement.

Hannibal smiled, charm itself. “If I gave away all of my secrets, Cordelia, my dinner parties would be significantly less popular.”

She chuckled. “Fair enough. Speaking of your dinner parties; although this is, of course, a delight as always, you are throwing them less and less often. I’ve come to miss them.”

“Agreed,” the dark man sitting beside her said. “This has come in a time of need.”

“Precisely that!” Cordelia exclaimed.

Will looked down at his cutlery and wondered which fork to stab himself with.

“And I sincerely apologise for that. I’m afraid… things seem to have somewhat gotten in the way, as of late,” Hannibal said regretfully.

“Surely this makes up for it,” Chilton piped up, looking around eagerly for agreement from his peers.

Will looked down at his cutlery and wondered which fork to stab Chilton with.

Beverly tapped his foot with hers, and he looked at her to see her giving him a subtle grin. He looked at her plate, saw the meal half-eaten. He thought about her cutting up the meat, putting it in her mouth and chewing it. Swallowing it, digesting it. He looked around at Alana’s plate, Jack’s plate, even Chilton’s, picturing the same.

He wondered why he was letting this happen.

The conversation died down until small groups of people were talking amongst themselves, the talk scattered across the table.

“I see you live up to your reputation, Hannibal,” the blonde woman said with a cold smile.

“Thank you. You look exquisite as always, Bedelia,” Hannibal said quietly.

Will glanced at her. She was wearing a dark blue dress with a plunging neckline, with small jewels along the collar. A pearl necklace adorned her neck, and her hair was immaculately curled.

He was right, Will supposed.

“And you look… as refined as always,” she replied with a small nod. Her gaze shifted to Will.

“Mr. Graham. I’m vague on the specifics, how did you and Hannibal meet?” Her eyes seemed to look right through his skull, searching and assessing.

There was a certain calculation behind her eyes that reminded him a lot of Hannibal.

“We were… both assigned to the same case. Still are. Hannibal was asked by Jack to consult,” he said with a nod to Jack, who nodded in return.

“And I am glad I did,” Jack added.

“Could Mrs. Crawford not join us tonight, Jack?” Hannibal asked, tilting his head.

Jack smiled and looked down at his plate. “Afraid not. She’s feeling… under the weather.”

Hannibal nodded. “Pity. Give her my regards.”

“So you and Hannibal are working on the same case. Hannibal is consulting to… profile the perpetrator?” Bedelia continued, her icy blue eyes still on Will.

Will nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Although, of course, that is Will’s specialty. Isn’t it, Will? Glad to see you could make it, by the way,” Chilton said with a smirk.

Will smiled back. “Yes, it is, Frederick. And me too.”

“Fascinating, his mind, you know. Have you read any Tattlecrime articles by any chance, Ms. Du Maurier?” Chilton asked.

The atmosphere on their side of the table shifted significantly.

“Must we really discuss that tasteless excuse for a media platform, Dr. Chilton?” Alana asked, barely hiding her annoyance.

Chilton was quick to raise his hands in defense. “I was only asking, Dr. Bloom, because one of their articles very well describes what Will… does.”

“I do not concern myself with cheap, disrespectful tabloid journalism, Dr. Chilton,” Bedelia said with a curled lip.

Chilton faltered. “Well, I… of course not. I was just… So are you familiar with Will’s position within the FBI?”

Will glanced at Hannibal, who was watching the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

“Maybe Will’s perfectly able to tell Ms. Du Maurier what his position is within the FBI himself,” Beverly said loudly.

“Agreed,” Jack said, with raised eyebrows directed at Chilton.

There was a moment of accusatory silence.

“All right,” Chilton then said with a cold smile at Will. “Tell us.”

Another moment of silence as everyone waited for Will to talk. He finished his bite calmly.

“Actually, Frederick, I don’t really feel like talking about work in a situation like this,” Will then said, not even looking up from his plate.

“A very valid statement,” Hannibal said, hereby concluding the subject. “More wine, anyone?”

“Please,” the woman next to Alana said with a smile. She glanced at Will as Hannibal poured her wine, then went along the table to serve others.

Bedelia also hadn’t stopped looking at him with a curious gaze throughout the entire ordeal. He decided to ignore the latter for the moment, no matter how curious he was himself.

He could see Chilton silently seething and his mood was improved considerably.

“Am I right to assume you are Alana’s partner?” he asked the woman, and her gaze softened when she looked at Alana.

“You are right to assume.”

“I’m afraid I never caught your name,” Beverly said, inadvertently saving Will from having to ask for it.

“Margot Verger,” she replied. “And you are…?”

“Beverly Katz. Verger, huh? You guys have quite the reputation,” Beverly said with raised eyebrows.

The woman gave a bitter smile. “I’m aware. Do you work with Will?”

Beverly nodded. “And Jack. The team’s almost complete.”

“I don’t think Zeller and Price would be able to cope in this atmosphere,” Jack said with a smile.

Beverly snorted. “They’d embarrass themselves, and us, is what they’d do.”

“How did you and Alana meet?” Will asked Margot.

“Alana was… my brother’s psychiatrist.”

“I heard he passed away,” Chilton said, having found his voice again.

Margot nodded. “Sadly,” she added as an afterthought.

“I’m sorry,” Will said, watching the hidden glances and hand-touches between her and Alana, guessing there was more to the story than met the eye.

“Thank you,” Margot said with a careful smile.

“We’re getting through it,” Alana added.

Will nodded. “I see. Please, excuse me a moment.”

He stood up, made his way to the bathroom. Splashed water onto his face and wondered what the hell he was doing here. This was the last time Hannibal would be able to convince him to do something like this. This was his nightmare. The etiquette, the bland conversation, the ever-present discomfort. Beverly’s presence gave some relief and so did Hannibal’s but still – not worth it. And he was planning on telling Hannibal exactly that once this hell was over.

After having convinced himself he was able to go back, if only to piss Chilton off some more, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He almost gasped in surprise when he saw Bedelia standing before him, leaning against the wall opposite.

“Oh, sorry,” he spluttered.

“Will Graham,” she said, stepping forward and putting a hand on his shoulder.

He froze as she leaned forward until her lips were at his ear.

“Stay away from Hannibal Lecter,” she whispered, letting the words linger, before stepping back and going into the bathroom, shutting the door.

He blinked, felt his heart racing in his throat, and leaned against the wall in the same fashion he had found Bedelia. The words spun around in his head, making him more dazed by the second. Faintly, he heard footsteps approaching, and suddenly Hannibal was in front of him with his hands on his shoulders.

“Will. Are you all right? What’s the matter?” Hannibal asked quietly but urgently.

Will glanced at the bathroom door and ran his hands through his hair. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing.”

He headed back to the dining room without another word. Hannibal followed after a few moments.

“Anyway, I suspect it won’t be around for much longer now that Ms. Lounds is dead,” Chilton was saying as they returned to their seats.

“She wasn’t the only journalist working there,” Alana said, glancing at Will.

“No, but she was the most… ambitious,” Jack said.

“I’m sure another ambitious writer will turn up. They always do,” Beverly said.

“A real pity, her death,” Chilton said with a frown. He turned to Will. “What do you think, Will?”

He downed his glass of wine. “Real pity. What else will you base your judgments of people on?”

Beverly snorted, not-so-subtly, taking a gulp of wine to hide it. Chilton glared at her before turning back to Will.

“Frankly, I think it’s disrespectful to talk about her like that after the way she died.”

“She didn’t have any respect for Will when she was alive,” Alana said matter-of-factly.

“Why pretend otherwise?” Margot said with a shrug.

Chilton kept quiet, evidently furious at being thwarted again.

Dessert eventually came by, and Will looked at Bedelia, who had long since sat down again and was engaging in polite conversation with Jack.

“Ms. Du Maurier,” he said, making her pause and look at him warily.

“Yes?”

“I never had a chance to ask. How did you and Hannibal meet?”

She was quiet for a moment, glancing at Hannibal with a wry smile. “I was his psychiatrist.”

Will paused, swallowing his surprise at Hannibal having a psychiatrist.

“Every good psychiatrist has a psychiatrist,” Chilton stated.

“Quite so, Frederick,” Hannibal said with an indulgent smile.

“Was his psychiatrist? So you’re not anymore?” Will continued.

She shook her head, her curls bouncing softly along.

“How come?”

She looked at him, and he found resignation in her eyes. “I… couldn’t offer Hannibal what he needed.”

“But we remained friends,” Hannibal added with a bright smile. “And see each other regularly. Isn’t that so, Bedelia?”

She raised her eyebrows and took a sip of wine. “It certainly is.”

The end of the dinner passed without incident, and eventually, the guests started departing one by one. Bedelia was the first to leave.

When it was finally just him and Hannibal, he was quiet, helping him with the dishes.

“Is anything the matter?” Hannibal eventually asked, not looking up.

“No,” Will replied just as nonchalantly.

Hannibal accepted this with a nod. When they were done, Hannibal turned to him. “Would you like some coffee?”

Will nodded slowly. “That sounds good. I might have had too much wine.”

Hannibal smiled. “I do not blame you in the least. Why don’t you wait in the study, and I’ll bring the coffee over?”

Will nodded again. “See you in a bit.”

Will went to the study, sat down in one of the armchairs. When he heard Hannibal’s footsteps approach he made a decision, not giving himself room for doubt, and reached behind him.

Hannibal entered the study with a tray of coffee and cups and saucers, to see Will sitting across from him, the hand resting on the arm of the chair holding a gun.

“Sit down, Hannibal,” Will said pleasantly. “We need to talk.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO i am SO SORRY for how long this took especially after a cliff hanger like that BUT in my defense i went on holiday and i specifically brought my laptop to write and then found out there was no fucking wifi where i was staying :)))))))) so again my apologies and i hope yall had a great christmas/new year and without further ado ENJOY

**Chapter 18**

Hannibal looked down at the gun, his features shifting into an eerie calm. Looking back up at Will, he made his way to the seat opposite him, slowly and deliberately placing the tray with coffee on the table between them.

“Evidently you have something to say. Please, I’m all ears,” he said, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his lap.

Will gave him a cool smile, gun still in his hand. “Tell me who you are.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Really, Will. You know who I am.”

“All right.” Will crossed his legs as well. “Tell me _what_ you are.”

He saw the flicker of a grin on Hannibal’s face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stop with the bullshit,” Will snapped, losing his calm. “Stop with the half-truths, stop with the games. I want the truth. Now.”

“Might I ask what triggered this sudden… compulsion to know?”

Will was silent for a moment, weighing his options. “Ms. Du Maurier,” he then said quietly. “She… said something that struck with me.”

“Ah,” Hannibal said with a smile, not seeming at all surprised. “I was curious as to whether she would do something.”

Will frowned. “You anticipated it? Then why invite her?”

Hannibal gave a graceful shrug. “To see what would happen.”

Will laughed quietly, incredulously. “That’s basically what it comes down to, isn’t it? You’re curious to see what will happen.”

“More or less,” Hannibal nodded.

“Even if it means ruining people’s lives.”

“Are you implying I ruined your life?”

Will was quiet for a long time. “I feel like I should say yes.”

“But?”

“But that’s not how I feel.”

Hannibal exhaled. “This, Will… this pure, unadulterated honesty… this is exactly what I’ve been wanting this entire time. Thank you.”

“This isn’t about what you want, Hannibal.”

“No, it’s about what you want. Hence, I’m assuming, the gun.”

Will shrugged. “Consider it a formality.”

“I thought we were well past formalities, Will.”

“Perhaps,” Will said slowly, eyeing the gun.

“Are you worried for your safety?” Hannibal asked solemnly.

“Not particularly,” Will said.

Hannibal nodded. “Good.”

“Is it?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”

“Really? Because objectively, it’s really fucking stupid.”

Will caught a miniscule eye-twitch at the language, but Hannibal made no comment on it.

“Enough of this,” he then said, the gun now warm in his hand. “The truth. Now.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “What do you think you know?”

“No. I told you, no more games. Talk.”

“Will,” Hannibal said quietly. “We both know there’s no need for me to say anything. You know everything you want to know.”

Will didn’t respond, gun twitching in his hand. He caught Hannibal’s glance at it.

“I’m going to need you to tell me anyway,” Will said, his voice dangerously calm.

Hannibal looked at him for a while, quiet. “May I make another suggestion?” he then asked.

Will grit his teeth before nodding.

“You tell me everything you know – or everything you think you know – and if you’re wrong, I will tell you. Is that acceptable?”

Will took a breath, realising more and more how skilled Hannibal was in not incriminating himself. “Fine.”

Hannibal leaned forward, his dark eyes gleaming. “Tell me what you know, Will.”

Will took a breath, suddenly very aware of everything in the room – the smell of the cooling coffee, the crackling of the fire in the fireplace, the clock ticking away, his own heartbeat thudding in his ears.

“You kill people,” he said slowly but clearly.

He held his breath, focusing all his senses on Hannibal’s reaction. The latter stayed perfectly still, not a single flicker of emotion evident on his face. It was quiet for a long time, Will’s heart beating faster with every second.

“What else?” Hannibal then said quietly.

The breath Will had been holding came out slowly and shakily. He didn’t know if what he was feeling was relief or sinking disappointment.

“You take surgical trophies.”

“And?”

“You eat them. And you feed them to others.”

The ghost of a smile was appearing on Hannibal’s face. “Keep going. I’ll let you know if you make a mistake.”

“You’ve been killing for a long time. You started when you were very young. You – you killed Freddie Lounds.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, almost as if in encouragement.

“You’re the Chesapeake Ripper.” The words left Will’s mouth in a burst, and he felt an immediate weight lift off his chest, as if the words had been dying to come out for a long time. Which they probably had.

This time Hannibal smiled properly, and Will was reminded of a demon grinning at him with sharp teeth and ink-black antlers.

“That night we met,” Will said after he had found his voice again, “you followed me because you were planning on killing me.”

Still, Hannibal didn’t say a word.

“Answer me,” Will whispered. “Say something.”

Hannibal took a quiet breath, smoothing out a crease in his trousers. “I told you –”

“I don’t care. It’s not enough. I need to hear you say it.” As he spoke, Will stood up and walked towards Hannibal, gun in hand.

“Stand up,” he said quietly when he was near enough to be holding the gun to Hannibal’s head.

Hannibal slowly stood, the gun not leaving his temple the entire time.

“Say it,” Will whispered.

“Why?” Hannibal said softly, his voice a gentle caress. “When you know the answers?”

“Because I need to hear it. From you,” Will said, his voice trembling with either excitement or fear – he didn’t know.

“Or what?” Hannibal said, his voice still soft. “Are you going to use the gun on me?”

“Just say it,” Will said, his voice almost pleading. “Please.”

Hannibal was quiet for a while, and his hand found Will’s face, cupping his cheek. Will leaned into the touch, the gun not wavering from Hannibal’s temple.

“Yes, my love,” Hannibal finally said, his voice dark. “Yes. You’re right.”

Will exhaled, his eyes closing briefly. “Thank you,” he breathed.

“And what does this mean for us?” Hannibal said. “Now that I’ve confirmed what you were aware of all along?”

“This means,” Will said quietly, “that we are no longer inhibited by half-truths and games. By complicatedly constructed masks.”

He leaned in, put his free hand on the back of Hannibal’s neck and pressed his lips against Hannibal’s. The latter reciprocated hungrily, and Will dropped the gun onto the table beside them with a clatter.

“We see each other without pretense,” Hannibal murmured. “No more hiding.”

“You were never hiding,” Will said. “Just… waiting in the shadows.”

“But you were.”

“From myself. Until I couldn’t, which is why we met that night.”

“I did follow you to kill you that night,” Hannibal whispered, breaking away. “And I am very glad I didn’t.”

“If you hadn’t followed me, we wouldn’t be speaking right now,” Will said quietly.

“How long have you known?” Hannibal then asked, running his hand through Will’s hair.

“I don’t know. I think I always knew,” Will said slowly.

“And yet you sat at my table and invited your friends to do the same.”

Will shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about that. I wasn’t sure.”

“Yes, you were. Did you simply blind yourself or allow those things to happen because they excited you?”

Will sniffed. “Maybe a bit of both. Did you kill Freddie on a passionate impulse or because she was getting too close?”

Hannibal smiled. “Maybe a bit of both.”

“It was risky. You are an obvious suspect.”

“So are you. But worry not, they will not look our way. I never misstep.”

“Except when you met me.”

“That wasn’t a misstep, Will, it was an… underestimation.”

“A surprise.”

“A pleasant one.”

“So what’s your endgame here? Drive Jack completely insane?”

“Jack is a friend. And not my main focus.”

Will leaned back, frowning. “No, your main focus is me. To what end?”

“You know this, Will. I want you to see you bloom. Thrive.”

“Your definition of the word is significantly different to anyone else’s.”

“Not to you.”

Will didn’t have an answer to this, so he stayed quiet, his hand running down Hannibal’s chest.

“What do you see,” Hannibal murmured, “when you see us? What we can achieve together?”

Will closed his eyes, letting the images of their combined capabilities course through his veins.

“I see… us covered in blood. The world at our feet. Greatness,” Will whispered.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal breathed.

“That is,” Will said, breaking free of Hannibal’s grasp, “If I give in to these urges.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Hannibal said, his empty arms dropping to his sides.

“Because I don’t revel in darkness, Hannibal,” Will said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, “I tolerate it.”

“That simply isn’t true,” Hannibal said. “Because if that were so, you would be tolerating me and not enjoying every moment of this.”

“I’m not,” Will answered honestly. “I’m torn.”

“You are torn between what you were taught is good and what you’ve always known was inside you. Do not do yourself an injustice by pushing that away. Together we can achieve – as you said it – greatness.”

“I know,” Will said quietly. “And that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Hannibal neared him again, taking the glass of whiskey from his hand and setting it on the table. He grasped his jaw, tilting his head back and planting kisses along his neck.

“You don’t need me to achieve greatness, Will,” he murmured between kisses, and Will’s eyes closed despite himself. “But I would be honoured to play a part in it.”

“You,” Will gasped, his hands threading through Hannibal’s hair, “You’re the only one –”

“I know, Will. I know. Let me show you what that means. What you mean.” As he spoke, he was unbuttoning Will’s shirt, shoving it off Will’s shoulders.

Somewhere Will realised that if this happened, there was no turning back. There was no more feigning innocence after this. The truth was out in the open, bare and naked, and he knew everything. They both did. To give in to this was to give into that part of himself. Fully conscious of everything, no more doubt in his mind.

Hannibal felt his trepidation and leaned back, looking at him.

For some reason, Will felt like he was about to make a deal with the devil.

“Is this what you want?” Hannibal whispered, his fingertips trailing down Will’s belly.

Will closed his eyes and shivered. “No turning back.”

Hannibal shook his head. “No turning back.”

“Would you kill me? If I couldn’t take it? If I told?” Will whispered, finding himself caring less about the answer than he ought to.

Hannibal slowly shook his head. “No, Will. As I’ve said before – I’d forgive you.”

Something about the way Hannibal said it made him think Hannibal’s forgiveness would involve blood.

“If anyone were to kill me – I’d want it to be you,” Will said, the truth of his words reverberating through his core.

Hannibal dug his nails into Will’s chest, seeming unaware of the action. “Likewise,” he whispered.

Hannibal sank to his knees and Will closed his eyes, losing himself to the darkness he had kept hidden from himself for so long.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo thank you for the sweet comments & kudos & bookmarks, enjoy <3

**Chapter 19**

Will dreamt about the black, antlered demon. Except instead of wanting to get away and being frightened, he gladly took the hand that it reached out to him.

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He woke up feeling more comfortable and at peace than he had felt in a long time. It was the sort of morning where everything was just right – he was warm and snug under the blanket, feeling sleepy in a way that he was able to doze off if he wanted to but it wasn’t necessary. And there was a warm, strong arm wrapped around his waist, a chest rising and falling gently against his back, soft breath tickling his hair.

Strangely, when last night’s conversation came flooding back in, he didn’t feel any kind of regret, or panic, or even anger. He was perfectly happy with how it had played out.

He supposed he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but couldn’t really bring himself to care.

He gave a small groan of contentment, not even being embarrassed about it. An answering hum sounded in his ear, and the arm around him tightened, pulling him closer.

“Morning,” Will whispered, his eyes still closed.

“Good morning,” Hannibal murmured, his voice rough with sleep. He pressed tired kisses on the back of Will’s shoulder. “Is it safe to assume you slept well?” there was an amused tone to his voice.

Will chuckled quietly. “It would be safe to assume so, yeah. And you?”

“Likewise.”

Will put his hand on Hannibal’s arm, absent-mindedly stroking it with his fingertips.

“Any dreams?” Hannibal asked softly, and Will could swear he felt the lightest of shivers come from him.

“Hmm… not really,” Will said with a discreet smile, his eyes still closed.

“I dreamt,” Hannibal murmured, his voice thoughtful. “For the first time in a very long time.”

Will finally opened his eyes, turning around to find Hannibal’s eyes expressing something he wasn’t entirely sure of. Curiosity, perhaps. Or fascination.

“Tell me?” he whispered, pulling Hannibal closer so they were almost chest to chest.

Hannibal brushed his knuckles along Will’s face, quiet for a while. “I dreamt of a chrysalis. It burst open with a flurry of white and gold. Its brilliance was blinding.”

Will looked at him with searching eyes, not rightly knowing how to respond. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on the corner of Hannibal’s mouth.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

Hannibal gave a wry chuckle, sitting up. “I think it’s time for coffee. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Will said with a nod.

Both clad in nothing more than a bathrobe, they went downstairs for coffee and breakfast.

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“As you can guess, we’ve had no luck on finding the videos,” Jack said, his voice bitter. “You were right, Will. He hid them well.”

Will nodded. “I expected that.”

“What is the next step, then?” Hannibal asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Honestly, I’m at a loss at the moment. We’ll keep digging, but there’s not much else we can do.”

“What if we reached out to him?” Will said abruptly.

He was met with curious looks.

“Elaborate?” Jack said.

“More specifically, me. What if I reached out to him somehow, told him that I understand him, or… want to understand him. Have him communicate with me. Have him feel that I sympathise with him.”

Jack had started nodding thoughtfully while he was talking. “Get him to trust you. He’s the loneliest person in the world and you can empathise with anyone in the world. It’s the perfect match.”

“Assuming he’d get sloppy and reveal something about himself that will lead us to him.” Hannibal nodded. “It is certainly worth a try.”

“A bit unorthodox, perhaps, but… better than doing nothing,” Jack agreed. “How would we establish a line of communication? I’m not sure Tattlecrime is still an option, with Freddie Lounds dead.”

“Yeah, now would have been a great time for her to be alive,” Will muttered, shooting a glare at Hannibal who gracefully ignored it.

“Either way, I don’t think it would be a good idea. We don’t want to advertise this. We’ll need to be discreet but public enough for him to be able to see it,” Jack said, frowning.

“He likes anagrams,” Will murmured, absent-mindedly chewing his nails.

“That’s something we can work with. How do we make him see it, though?” Jack said.

Will looked up. “I might have an idea.”

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At the end of the day, every single article, post, photograph and analysis – published on the biggest websites – about the Cradlesnatcher had been commented on by an anonymous account. Sometimes multiple times.

‘I AAM RELIGIOUSLY in AWE OF HIM.’

“I am Will Graham. I see you,” Will said quietly, regarding their work.

Jack nodded. “It might be a long shot, but it might work.”

“Serial killers do love reading about themselves,” Hannibal said with a raised eyebrow. “I think it’s safe to assume this man is the same.”

“The typo is a nice touch. Anyone else glancing over it will think it’s your local weirdo,” Jack said.

“It was unavoidable,” Hannibal said with a sniff.

Will stifled a snort, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Now we wait.”

“Let’s hope this works,” Jack muttered.

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“Huh. It’s kinda smart,” Beverly said, frowning into her coffee.

Will let out a bark of wry laughter. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean, I hope he sees it and figures it out. And I hope no one else does. It’s risky, is what I’m saying. But our only option right now.”

“Yeah. I know,” Will said with a sigh.

“You got any plans later on?” she then asked.

“Uh… don’t think so. Why?”

“I was thinking maybe I want something a little stronger than coffee. Care to join me?”

Will took a breath, about to decline, but changed his mind at the last moment. “Yeah. Fuck it, I could use a drink.”

Beverly gave a bitter chuckle. “That’s the spirit.”

A while later, when they had ordered their first drink of the night – a whiskey for Will and a red wine for Beverly – she gave him a pointed look.

“Don’t you wanna text your boyfriend to let him know you won’t be coming over?” she asked teasingly.

Will glared at her. “We didn’t have plans.”

He didn’t mention that he had already sent Hannibal a message.

She gave him a knowing grin. “By the way, I’ve got to thank you for inviting me to that dinner party. It was basically hours of Chilton trying to sound smart and you roasting him. It was amazing.”

Will smiled. “I might have been a bit hard on him.”

“Nah, I disagree. He was being a dick. I think he needs more people in his life that don’t tolerate his bullshit,” Beverly said with a shrug.

“He certainly wasn’t making any friends,” Will muttered, downing his drink.

“Were you okay, though? You seemed a bit… weird, towards the end of the night.”

He could see she was trying to be nonchalant. He felt guilt tug at him – thinking of how that night had ended, thinking of the fact that he knew what Hannibal was, accepted it, even _liked_ it, deep down – Hannibal was the serial killer the FBI had been looking for for years, and he was right under their noses. And he was lying to Beverly’s face. And Jack, and Alana. Again.

“No, I was fine. Just a bit exhausted from the social requirements,” he said with a wry smile.

Beverly grinned. “Right, I get it. Hannibal has some… interesting friends.”

_Hannibal doesn’t have any friends. He has pawns, and fools, and people who feed his ego, and people who amuse him. And me._

“That he does. One evening was quite enough.”

“The food was so good, though. I’d actually tolerate more of his friends, even Chilton, if that meant I’d get to eat his meals more often,” Beverly said after their ordered their second drinks.

_“You take surgical trophies.”_

_“And?”_

_“You eat them. And you feed them to others.”_

“True. Although I guess I get to enjoy them more than others,” he said with a smirk.

Beverly pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Lucky bastard.”

“That’s no way to talk to someone who could sneak home some leftovers.”

“Good point. I’m so happy for you and your taste buds. You deserve it,” she said with a grin.

Will chuckled. “That’s better.”

“I want to ask you something, but we’re not tipsy enough yet,” she then said abruptly, her tone semi-serious.

 Will raised an eyebrow. “O…kay?”

She downed her wine and ordered another one.

“It’s gonna be one of those nights, huh?” Will said, downing his drink as well.

Beverly raised her glass to him in solidarity, and he ordered another drink too, shaking his head.

“All right, still not tipsy enough, but fuck it. Better get it out of the way.”

Will looked at her in silence as Beverly took a breath.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked. “Like, not right now, but… in general? Since our last conversation about… about what happened, are you…” she trailed off, looking at him.

Will suppressed a sigh. This wasn’t helping with the guilt. “Yeah, Beverly. Yes. I’m okay.”

“Honestly? Because, I don’t want to sound like a dick, but… you hid a suicide attempt from me.”

Will flinched. “Yeah. I deserved that. But honestly, I’m okay. It… it feels like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Like I was being held back by something, and that something is… gone. For the first time in as long as I can remember. I mean, I’m not going to lie, the case doesn’t exactly lighten my mood, but… it’s in a normal way, I guess. The same way it is for you and for Jack and Price and Zeller and whoever.”

Beverly nodded, and he noticed her relaxing slightly. “That’s good to hear, Will. Like, really good.”

Will smiled. “Yeah. It feels good.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain psychiatrist coming into your life, would it?” she then said with a smirk.

He smiled into his drink. “You don’t know the half of it.”

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A couple of hours later, they were well and truly drunk, and wondering if they should be making their way home.

“I’m really going to regret this tomorrow,” Beverly beamed, downing the rest of her drink.

“Fucking same here,” Will said, pushing his glasses up clumsily.

“Guess we should take a cab home?” Beverly said, her tone showing it was open for debate.

“I guess we should,” Will sighed. “Let me… let me just text Hannibal that we’re leaving.”

He sent out a barely coherent text, deciding Hannibal would figure out the gist. Almost immediately, his phone buzzed to show that Hannibal had texted him to tell him the address and that he’d come and pick him up.

“Oh. Looks like I’m getting picked up,” Will said with a shrug.

“Ooh, someone’s getting laid tonight,” Beverly said, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

“Ugh, stop,” Will groaned, elbowing her lightly. “I can ask him to drop you off if you want?”

“Nah, don’t think so. I don’t really want to feel like a teenager being picked up by an entirely sober parent.”

“I guess that makes sense. I’ll wait with you for your cab.”

They both stood outside in the cold, arms wrapped around themselves.

“I’m glad we did this, Will,” Beverly said suddenly. “I feel like we don’t do this enough.”

“Tomorrow morning we’ll probably discover the reason for that.”

Beverly gave a small smile.

“But yeah, me too. I had a good time,” he then said sincerely.

Beverly’s cab rolled up, and she turned and hugged him tightly. “See you in hell tomorrow,” she then said with a grin, pulling away.

“Oh, god. Text me when you get home,” Will said, and she waved her hand non-committedly, walking to her cab.

A few seconds after she left, there was a sudden hand on his shoulder.

“Jesus,” Will barked, turning around.

Hannibal looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smile he seemed like he was trying to fight. “Hello, Will. You look like you had a good time.”

Will rubbed his hand subconsciously over his undoubtedly flushed cheeks. “When did you get here?”

“A while ago. You and Miss Katz seemed to be having an important conversation, so I decided not to interrupt. Did she not want to be dropped off?”

“No,” Will said, not sure how he felt about Hannibal seeing him having drunk conversations with Beverly. “She thought it would be weird.”

Hannibal gave a small shrug. “Fair enough. Ready to go home?”

“Was there an ‘or’ at the end of that sentence?” Will said with a grin.

Hannibal chuckled. “No. If you want another drink, then by all means go ahead, but in my opinion you seem as if you’ve had enough.”

“You’re probably right. Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?” Will said teasingly, letting himself be led to the car.

Hannibal smiled. “Yes. I’m writing you a prescription for a good night’s sleep, preferably as soon as possible.”

Will snorted, getting into the passenger seat. “Not sure I want to go to bed, yet.”

“A cup of coffee, then. How does that sound?”

Will nodded. “Better. I miss my dogs.”

Hannibal smirked. “I’ll try not to feel offended.”

Will rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “And I’ve missed you, too.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Enough with the sarcasm. That’s my thing.”

“My sincerest apologies.”

“Stop it. I’m not liking this role-reversal.”

Hannibal laughed quietly. “I’ll stop talking, then.”

“No. I like hearing you talk. Your voice is my favourite voice to listen to. If I had to make a choice between never hearing you talk again or never hearing anything except for your voice…. I think _I_ need to stop talking,” he muttered, interrupting himself.

“Please, by all means, continue,” Hannibal said, barely containing his laughter.

“No. This has been embarrassing enough,” Will said crossly, closing his eyes.

“You are incredibly endearing, Will,” Hannibal said with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah. I want that coffee,” he muttered.

“Nearly there. It is the first and foremost thing on my mind, after getting you home.”

“You’re staying the night, right?”

Hannibal was quiet for a few moments, and Will opened an eye to see him smiling softly at him.

“Of course,” he then said.

Will closed his eyes again. “You should be watching the road.”

“We’re at a red light.”

“Whatever.”

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Later, when they were both wrapped around each other in bed and soundly asleep, Will’s phone buzzed quietly on the nightstand, too quiet to wake either of them up. It showed a notification of an email from an address which consisted of seemingly random letters and numbers. His screen only showed a preview of the message.

_hello will graham_

_you say you see me_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone, thank you for all the feedback as always! i hope you guys keep enjoying this story. it's been a bit difficult for me to write because of my life situation and, as a result of that life situation, my confidence in my writing has been dwindling a little. but not to worry, i'll finish this fic if it kills me ;) anyway i just think you guys should know since i've been taking longer to update and so if in the future it takes me even longer just know that i haven't abandoned the fic. just have a little patience with me :) love you all x

**Chapter 20**

Will woke up, much to his dismay. His mouth was dry as sand and his head was thumping. He groaned quietly, rubbing his eyes. His hand dropped to the empty space beneath him. The mattress was cool.

Reluctantly he opened his eyes and sat up. He noticed a glass of water and an aspirin sitting on the bedside table, and he downed them gratefully.

“Hannibal?” he croaked, slowly but surely getting out of bed.

“In the kitchen,” he heard Hannibal call, and he pulled on his dressing gown and padded down the hall.

“Good morning,” Hannibal said cheerily, his hands occupied with a pan of sausage and eggs.

“Is it?” Will grumbled, shuffling over to the coffeemaker.

“There’s a fresh pot on the counter,” Hannibal said with a nod towards it. “I take it you’re feeling a tad rough, then?”

“Ah. Thanks. And yeah, you could say that.” Will poured them both some coffee, setting Hannibal’s cup next to him on the counter.

“It’s not surprising. It was quite apparent you’d had quite enough to drink last night.”

Will looked up at him and was met with a smirk. “Yeah, let’s not talk about that,” he muttered, taking a gulp of coffee.

“But Will, there is so much to talk about,” Hannibal said sweetly, putting the eggs and sausages on two plates.

“Look, I don’t even remember half of it so there’s no use in doing this,” Will snapped, sitting down at the table.

“That’s a shame,” Hannibal said, putting their plates down. “You certainly said some things worth remembering.”

“First of all – thank you, it looks delicious – I rarely say things worth remembering. Secondly, this isn’t a fair position for me to be in. When I’ve seen _you_ shitfaced, that’s when you can embarrass me.” He ended his sentence with an emphasizing stab of his fork into his egg.

Hannibal gave him a scandalised look. Will grinned.

“If I knew all I had to do to get you to stop talking was to swear, I would have done that a lot quicker – and more creatively.”

“Really? Because last night you told me that you love hearing me talk, and that my voice is your favourite thing to –”

“Stop,” Will yelled, swallowing his food harshly. “Don’t. I don’t want to know.”

Hannibal raised his hands in defeat. “Fair enough. But you should know I found it very charming.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m being quite serious. You become very honest when you’re drunk. Very honest and very affectionate, in your own way.”

“It’s not like I’m not honest otherwise,” Will muttered.

“You are, but you’re honest about other things. Sweeter things,” Hannibal said with a teasing smile.

“All right, I’ve definitely heard enough. Enough amusement at my expense.”

Hannibal nodded. “Did you have any plans for today?”

Will shook his head, grateful for the subject change. “Are you staying?”

“If I’m welcome,” Hannibal said, leaning down to scratch behind Winston’s – who had hopefully trotted over to the table – ears.

Will snorted. “I think we’re past that point.”

Hannibal looked up and gave him an odd smile. “Fair enough.”

Will stretched, groaning and rubbing his eyes. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Maybe I can wash this hangover away. Don’t worry about the dishes, I’ll do them later.”

Hannibal gave a nod which indicated he was definitely going to worry about the dishes. Will shook his head to himself, standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he was letting his head fall back under the hot water, feeling his energy return a tiny bit.

He thought about the night before, and, reluctant as it was, a small smile of amusement formed on his lips. Amusement at himself, amusement at Beverly, amusement at Hannibal.

He supposed he didn’t mind Hannibal seeing him like that. At least, not nearly as much as he made out.

A little while later, he was padding back to the kitchen, toweled off and wrapped in his bathrobe. Hannibal was still there, sat on a chair with a second cup of coffee and entertaining himself with the dogs.

Will raised an eyebrow, sitting down opposite him. His hair dripped a few droplets of water onto the table.

“You did the dishes.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

“It was no bother. Enjoy your shower?”

“Yeah. I feel semi-alive again,” Will said with a grin.

Hannibal smiled. “Good. Any plans for today?”

Will shook his head. “I thought we could walk the dogs for a bit, maybe.”

Hannibal nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

Will rolled his eyes good-naturedly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal put his fingers on Will’s chin and tilted his face towards his, kissing him properly. Will pulled away, slightly breathless, and stood up. In other circumstances, he would have felt slightly embarrassed at the effect Hannibal’s touch still had on him. He figured he was well past that point, though.

“I’ll go get dressed, then,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Good idea.”

Will shook his head and walked over to the bedroom, shrugging off the bathrobe when he got there. He pulled on some underwear. His phone buzzed, startling him. He leaned down to see a message from Beverly asking if he was still alive. There was another notification.

He went completely still.

Hannibal had followed him into the bedroom, wrapping his arms around Will’s torso and pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. When Will remained frozen, Hannibal pulled back, frowning.

“Is something the matter?”

Will turned towards him, giving him his phone wordlessly.

Hannibal took it, his features quickly changing into an expression Will hadn’t seen before – cold, wary.

“I guess we succeeded,” Will said quietly, taking the phone back from Hannibal.

“I suppose we did,” Hannibal murmured.

“We should call Jack.”

“We should.”

As Hannibal phoned Jack, Will reread the email, the cold feeling in his gut not subsiding.

_hello will graham_

_you say you see me_

_I see you too_

_I want to show you_

_need to show you_

_need want can’t shouldn’t must help me_

_I’m drowning I’m drowning I’mdrowningimdrowningimdrowningimdrowning_

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The look in Jack’s eyes was a mixture of concern and triumph.

“We got him,” he said quietly, his eyes still scanning the email.

“We need to reply,” Will said, frowning. “I need to reply.”

“We need to be careful not to scare him off. Before we do anything, we’re waiting for Dr. Bloom and Dr. Chilton.”

“Why do we – wait, Dr. Chilton?”

Jack nodded, his eyebrow raised. “I know you and he don’t exactly see eye-to-eye, but we need to consider different professional opinions. Alana will be wanting to send something sympathetic, Chilton will want to send something eager… as for you, Dr. Lecter, I’m curious to hear what you will think is best. We’ll most likely go for something in the middle.”

Hannibal pursed his lips in thought. “I would think it best to reply in a way that will leave him wanting more. Ignite his curiosity, use his need for companionship. Manipulate him with what we know.”

Will bit his tongue to repress a comment on how Hannibal was exceedingly good at just that. From Hannibal’s coldly amused look, however, he felt the latter knew exactly what he was thinking.

Jack nodded slowly. “Good. That’s good.”

“Looks like we won’t be needing Chilton after all,” Will said with a cheerful shrug.

“Fortunately, I am already here and ready to offer my professional psychiatric opinion,” came a smug voice from the door.

Will didn’t even look up, instead focusing on subduing the immediate annoyance that had flared up.

“Dr. Chilton. Thanks for coming,” Jack said pointedly, shooting a glare Will’s way.

“No problem whatsoever. Although I must say I am extremely curious as to what my opinion is needed for,” Chilton said, the air of smugness around him growing thicker.

“I’ll admit, I feel the same,” Alana said, entering the room. Snowflakes were still dissolving in her dark hair.

“Dr. Bloom. Good, we’re all here. Will, your phone, please.”

Will handed it over wordlessly, waiting for them to read the email. Chilton’s eyebrows raised in surprise and then lowered again as he narrowed his eyes, most likely already thinking of an appropriate response.

Alana’s expression stayed grim as she read through the email, her lips pressed tightly together.

“Tell him you would love to meet him, to listen to him explain in person,” Chilton said to Will, his cheeks flushed with what seemed like excitement.

“Too obvious,” Will said in a bored voice.

“You need to make him feel safe,” Alana said thoughtfully. “You need to make him feel like he can trust you, open up to you.”

Will nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“If you make him feel too safe, he’ll most likely feel like you’re patronising him,” Chilton remarked.

“True,” Will admitted reluctantly.

“Asking to meet up is much too forward, though. You’ll scare him off,” Alana said, frowning.

“Much too quick,” Will agreed.

“What do you think, Will?” Hannibal asked quietly.

Will took a breath, closed his eyes. What would the Cradle Snatcher need to hear? What would he need to feel like he was safe, wanted, understood?

Wordlessly, he grabbed a paper and pen and started to write. The room was silent except for the sound of his pen scratching the surface of the paper.

When he was done, he slid the paper across the desk for them to read. Jack snatched it up, reading it aloud.

“’I want you to show me. Need you to show me. You say you are drowning. Let me be the one to take your hand and pull you out of the icy darkness. I am here.’”

Jack finished reading with a nod. “Good.”

Will looked at Hannibal. “Not too forward?”

Hannibal tilted his head thoughtfully. “I think it’s just the acceptable amount of forwardness.”

“I agree,” Alana nodded.

“It’s fine. I still think we need to speed things up. If we wait until he’s ready to meet, we could be waiting for months!” Chilton exclaims.

“I’d rather wait a while longer than lose the line of communication completely,” Jack said grimly.

“And we won’t be waiting months,” Will said quietly. “We’ll be coaxing him into wanting to meet me, without him knowing it. He’s desperate for this, wanted this all his life.”

Chilton sniffed. “I suppose.”

“Go on, send it,” Jack nodded to Will, who took his phone and typed out the message.

Before sending, he looked around the room, specifically at Hannibal. “Sure there’s nothing to add?” he asked.

After a moment’s thought, Hannibal gave a small shake of his head. The others did the same.

“I think this is the best way to approach him,” Alana said quietly.

“Go ahead,” Jack said, and Will sent the message, his phone making a small whooshing noise.

“Right,” Jack then said. “Hopefully we’ll have an answer today. I’ll have the team check into where the message came from. I doubt we’ll have any luck, but it’s worth a try. Let’s hope this keeps him too busy to be thinking about murdering children.”

Alana swallowed, her eyes dark. “Let’s hope.”

“Please, do update us whenever you receive a reply,” Chilton said earnestly.

Jack gave a nod. “Of course. Thank you all. We’ll let you know as soon as we have something.”

“I know you will, Jack. Let’s hope everyone else here does the same,” Chilton said airily, picking up his coat and brushing it off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Will said, frowning at him.

“I must say I can relate to Will’s confusion,” Hannibal said, his eyebrows raised.

Chilton shrugged, not looking either of them in the eye. “I’m just saying that certain people have more of an affinity with – ah – psychopaths, than others. I’m afraid it wouldn’t surprise me if Mr. Graham let that side of him get the best of him.”

“Speak clearly, Chilton,” Jack said quietly. “And carefully.”

Chilton looked up, realised he was absolutely outnumbered, and raised his hands in defense. “Never mind. It was just a thought that occurred to me. Good day to you all.”

With that, he turned and left the room.

“Dick,” Will said, just loud enough for Chilton to be able to hear him, before getting up and getting his coat.

“Will, ignore him. He’s smart, but not half as smart as he’d like to think,” Alana said quietly.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you all sometime soon,” Will muttered, hurrying out of the room before anyone could say anything else.

When he got to his car he heard footsteps nearing him, and he didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

“I’m going home. Alone,” Will said, a tad sharper than he had intended.

“That’s fine. I would like to come over and cook you dinner tonight, though.”

Will sighed and turned, softening slightly at seeing Hannibal. The latter took his hands.

“We could still go for that walk,” he said with a small smile.

Will smiled back, although it dropped quickly. “That’s fine. I don’t think I’ll really be hungry, anyway.”

Hannibal raised his hands to his lips and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. “I’ll cook you dinner just the same.”

He opened the car door for Will, and the latter got in with a sigh, feeling strangely sad.

“You’re way too compassionate for the Chesapeake Ripper,” Will said very quietly.

Hannibal gave an odd smile. “Only to you. And not always.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

That night, after Hannibal had cooked him dinner and they had sipped wine, Hannibal showed him exactly how merciless he could be.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELLO i fucked off to germany for a week so this is a bit late lsdkslkdj sorryyyyyy ANYWAY ENJOY AND STUFF LOVE YALL (no i did not write this chapter while being tipsy? why do you ask?)

**Chapter 21**

_Are you there?_

_I’m scared._

_It’s dark in here. I can’t see…_

_Please._

_If you’re there…_

_Please. Call out._

_I’m… drowning…_

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Will woke with a gasp, lurching forward. His forehead was beaded with sweat and he could feel the dampness of the mattress underneath him.

“Hannibal,” he croaked, his hand flailing wildly beside him.

“Will,” Hannibal’s voice came sharply, and his hand was grasped and held tight. “I’m here. It’s all right, Will.”

He felt himself being pulled toward Hannibal, and let himself be guided towards the latter’s chest. He could feel his breaths becoming more frequent and more shallow, and he clutched Hannibal with all his might.

“Calm down, Will,” Hannibal said gently, stroking his back lightly. “Calm down. Breathe with me.”

Will followed Hannibal’s breaths, until he could finally feel his own slowing down.

“It was just a bad dream. Everything is fine,” Hannibal murmured, his fingers running though Will’s hair. “I’m here.”

Will gulped, nodding and closing his eyes. “I’m okay,” he whispered. “I’m okay.”

They stayed like that for a little while, Will catching his breath and letting his heart slow down as Hannibal continued to stroke his hair.

“I’m okay,” Will said again, his voice louder this time.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Hannibal whispered.

Will nodded slowly. “I do, but I’m still trying to understand it myself. I… I think… I think the killer’s getting inside my head.”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment. “Isn’t that always slightly the case?” he said gently.

Will nodded again. “Slightly. But this… I think I dreamed I was him. I was him, I was alone in the dark, crying for help… but no one came. And somehow I realised no one would ever come. It was going to be me, alone in the dark, forever.”

“That sounds awful,” Hannibal murmured.

Will let out a breath. “It was. We’ll talk about it more in the morning, I just… I don’t know.”

Hannibal nodded. “What can I do to help?”

Will moved his head upwards and found Hannibal’s lips. “Just be here,” he breathed, and Hannibal pulled him closer, the dark no longer frightening, but with Hannibal’s presence, comforting instead.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Will blew on his coffee, absent-mindedly scratching behind Buster’s ear. The morning was a quiet one, the kind of quiet only achieved by a night-time snowfall. One where the air was crisp and clear. He stared out into the snowy field, his dogs playing around in the sharp sun.

He heard footsteps from inside, and waited for the door to open, a part of him sad that his early-morning solitude was disturbed. That disappeared completely once Hannibal stepped outside, the feeling replaced by gentle joy.

He smiled. “Good morning.”

Hannibal returned the smile and raised his eyebrows. “Good morning.”

He was already dressed, and Will opened his arm to make room for Hannibal under the blanket. The latter sat next to him, and they leaned into each other almost automatically.

“I see your morning was an early one.”

Will nodded with a sigh. “I… I didn’t really go back to sleep.”

Hannibal frowned. “I see.”

“Don’t worry. It helped. I managed to clear my head.”

Hannibal nodded. “And?”

“And… I’m feeling okay. My head’s gotten… calmer. But I’m not stupid. I know that this killer has an effect on me. And I know it’s not going to get better any time soon.”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment. “What does that entail?”

Will gave a thin chuckle. “I’m not sure yet. But a good guess would be that my dreams are changing.”

“As they changed with me.”

Will glanced up at him, nodding. “The dreams about you haven’t disappeared,” he said quietly. “They’re… different.”

“Different how?”

“Different as in… instead of being afraid of you, or whatever represents you in my dreams… I feel attracted. Seduced, almost.”

A small smile was forming on Hannibal’s lips.

Will scoffed. “Glad you’re happy to hear that.”

Hannibal turned to him, smiling properly now. “I am.” His expression turned serious. “Although I’m not happy about the killer influencing your dreams.”

“The _other_ killer,” Will muttered.

Hannibal allowed that. “I’m afraid that I’ll have to do more to be dominant in your dreams.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “And how are you planning on doing that, exactly?”

Hannibal smiled. “You’ll see.”

They were quiet for a moment, Will glaring at Hannibal but the latter refusing to elaborate.

“Have you gotten a message from him?” Hannibal then asked.

Will took a breath. “To be honest, I haven’t looked. Didn’t really want to be confronted with that just yet.”

Hannibal nodded. “I understand. We can do it together, later. Although for now –” he gently took the empty cup from Will’s hands – “we should go inside. Your hands are freezing.”

Will nodded reluctantly, following Hannibal inside.

While Will showered, Hannibal made breakfast. When he came into the kitchen, dried off and dressed, he saw that Hannibal had put his phone face-down on the counter.

“I haven’t looked,” Hannibal said, not turning around. “But you missed a call from Jack while you were showering. I thought it best not to answer.”

Will nodded slowly, walking over to his phone. “Although I don’t really think it would have mattered.”

“I suppose not. But I did not want to take liberties.”

“Thanks.”

Will unlocked his phone, his breath hitching in his throat to see a new email notification. “Hannibal?” he said quietly.

Hannibal stopped what he was doing, calmly turning off the stove, and came to stand beside Will.

“Would you like me to read it first?” he said gently.

Will shook his head. “No. We’ll read it together.”

He opened his email and selected the message.

_will_

_are you really there?_

_there to listen to my sins_

_my trespasses_

_my mistakes_

_my victories_

_my demons_

_my shame?_

_and if you are, are you there to judge or to hold my hand?_

_i want you to hold my hand. need you to hold my hand._

_i am, have always been, alone in this inky black_

_am I seeing a single shimmer of light, a glimpse of hope, a glitter of relief_

_i am unsure. who are you, will graham?_

_Who_

_Are_

_You_

 

They were both silent for a long while after reading.

“He’s testing me. Seeing if he can trust me,” Will finally murmured, his voice hoarse.

Hannibal nodded in agreement. “It’s important you say the right thing.”

Will took a breath, copying the message and pasting it into a new email to Jack. He wasn’t sure the killer would know if he forwarded the message, so he decided to play it safe. Right after he’d sent it, he called Jack.

“Will.”

“Yeah, Jack. You called.”

“I wanted to know if you had gotten a response.”

“I have. I just sent it to you.”

There was a moment of silence as Jack opened his email. After a while: “He’s –”

“Testing me, yeah. Whatever I reply, it needs to be good.”

“Yes,” Jack said thoughtfully. “Come into the office later, I’ll phone the others.”

“Right. See you later.”

Will hung up, put his phone on the counter. Hannibal took his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“Let’s have breakfast,” he said quietly, and Will followed him to the table.

When Hannibal put the food in front of him, he found himself barely even wondering what kind of meat he was putting in his mouth. He was anxious, though. And, as was par for the course when he was anxious, he let his mouth get the better of him.

“Where’d you get the meat?” he asked with a lightness he didn’t feel.

Hannibal didn’t even look up. “If you like it, I can get you more.”

Will snorted. “Would it matter if I didn’t like it?”

“Yes. But you do.”

Will put his fork down and leaned towards Hannibal. “What was their name?”

Hannibal looked up, also putting his fork down. His expression was inscrutable.

“Did they scream? Struggle? Did they die a slow, painful death? Did you get off on it?” Will felt immediate regret at every word, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Hannibal took a breath, leaning back. “First of all,” he said calmly, “this is pork.”

Will blinked. “Oh.”

“Secondly, you’re feeling scared. And when you’re scared, you tend to lash out. You are rude. I understand your fear, Will. But although my patience is great, it is not endless. It might be greater even with you, but even so… not endless.”

Will felt shame at those words. That made him angry. “And when your patience runs out, what then?”

Hannibal didn’t reply, just looked at him with a cold glint in his eye.

“Will you kill me?” Will whispered.

Hannibal titled his head. “Would you like me to?”

“I’d like to see you try,” Will murmured, his hand twitching.

“I seem to remember you saying that if anyone were to kill you, you’d want it to be me,” Hannibal said, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

“I said what I said,” Will whispered.

Hannibal stood, his hand grabbing the clean knife at the side of his plate with a fluidity that surprised Will.

What surprised him even more was that his own hand had grabbed his knife, as well.

“Stand up,” Hannibal said kindly.

Will felt a grin spread across his face. “No.”

Hannibal paused for a moment, seemingly not expecting that answer. “Stand up, Will.”

Will leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. “I’m quite comfortable here, thanks.”

He could feel arousal tugging at his insides. He didn’t want to think about what that meant in this current situation.

Hannibal put the knife against his neck. That only resulted in Will’s arousal increasing – greatly.

“Stand. Up,” Hannibal hissed, and Will could feel the sharp edges of the knife digging into his throat.

“Fuck,” he muttered, temporarily losing the control he had in the situation.

Hannibal saw this and smiled. “Now, please.”

The other knife was still in Will’s hand, and he put it against Hannibal’s thigh. The latter raised an eyebrow.

“Before you say anything, take a moment to realise that I can puncture your main artery with a single movement,” Will said, not bothering to hide his arousal anymore, his cheeks flushed and his pupils widened.

Hannibal glanced down. “You seem to be correct.”

“I know.”

“I suppose that leaves us at an impasse.”

“I suppose it does.”

“Do you know what? I’m going to do you a favour.” Hannibal lowered the knife from Will’s neck, and he immediately felt disappointment flooding in.

“There. You have all the power now. I am completely at your mercy.” There was a mocking tone in his voice Will didn’t like one bit.

“Fucking hell,” Will muttered, finally standing up.

He dropped the knife onto the table with a clatter, and turned to leave the room. Hannibal’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist – tightly – and before he knew it, he was being pulled tightly to him, the knife back at his throat.

“You move fast,” Will said breathlessly.

In response, Hannibal moved his thigh in between Will’s legs, and the latter gave a sharp intake of breath.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said pleasantly.

“God…” Will said with a shudder, rubbing himself against Hannibal’s thigh, not completely in control of his movements.

“Do you want me to cut your throat, Will?” Hannibal whispered, digging the knife deeper into Will’s throat.

He could feel the skin break, and the warm, sticky drops of blood running down his neck only strengthened his arousal.

“Hannibal…” he moaned, his legs almost giving when Hannibal leaned in to lick the blood from his throat.

“On your knees,” Hannibal whispered in his ear, sending a shudder down his spine.

Will sank down, dazedly aware of the knife not leaving his throat. He couldn’t believe how much he was enjoying this. How much he needed this. How much he needed this from Hannibal.

He opened Hannibal’s trousers without needing to be prompted and took him into his mouth.

His hand went down to his own crotch – the knife was suddenly a lot sharper, a grunt of pain escaping his lips.

“No,” Hannibal said softly. “No.”

Will looked up at him, trying to decide whether or not to challenge him. Part of him laughed at them, the both of them – after everything, they were still playing these games. And they both still enjoyed them as much as they did in the beginning.

He decided to give in, his hands obediently at his sides as he continued.

Hannibal’s other hand grasped the back of his head, and he could feel the pressure of the knife weaken.

“Will,” Hannibal said suddenly, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. “I… I want –”

They both froze. A phone was ringing.

“Just ignore it,” Will said, his voice almost a moan.

“I can’t,” Hannibal panted. “I am quite sure it’s Jack.”

“Fuck,” Will groaned. He leaned in to taste Hannibal once more, closing his eyes and feeling Hannibal’s fingers dig into his scalp, before finally pulling away.

Hannibal took a breath, grabbing his phone and leaning onto the counter for support. He cleared his throat before picking up.

“Dr. Lecter,” he said, his voice containing only the tiniest quiver.

Will grinned at this, still sitting on the floor, and he leaned his back against the counter.

“I understand. I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Hannibal said, his voice more controlled now.

He hung up and sighed, hanging his head for a few seconds. Then he closed his trousers, his hands shaking slightly, and ran his hand through his hair – something that Will found simultaneously incredibly uncharacteristic and incredibly endearing.

“We should leave. Jack is waiting for us at the office.”

Will nodded, accepting Hannibal’s hand and letting himself be pulled up.

“Although that wasn’t exactly healthy… I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Jack for calling at that moment,” he said wistfully, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

“I agree. And it wasn’t exactly, healthy, no,” Hannibal said with a thin smile.

Will pulled Hannibal towards him and kissed him. “To be fair, we’re not exactly healthy, anyway.”

Hannibal kissed him again. “I suppose I have to agree.”

As they made their way to their cars, Hannibal was frowning slightly.

“It took a while for him to call after you spoke to him,” he said thoughtfully.

Will raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“Why would he call me last?” Hannibal then said, his offence threading through his words.

Will rolled his eyes, not replying, and got into his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will please smack that bitch


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the feedback my loves <3 enjoy!!!!

**Chapter 22**

When they got to the office, it was only Jack.

Before Will could ask where the others were, Jack said, “Neither Dr. Bloom nor Dr. Chilton could join us at such short notice today. Looks like it’s just going to be us.”

Will nodded slowly, sitting down beside Hannibal.

“So,” Jack said, leaning forward and threading his fingers. He opened his mouth to continue before it abruptly snapped shut again.

Will raised an eyebrow and glanced at Hannibal, who was regarding Jack with a hint of amusement.

“Will?” Jack said slowly.

“Yes?” Will said, feeling nerves fluttering in his stomach from Jack’s tone. “What?”

“You’ve got some blood…” Jack gestured to his own neck, and Will stiffened with crushing realisation.  

“Oh, do I?” he said lightly after a few seconds, rubbing at his throat. He looked at his hand, seeing dried blood. “Oh. Must have cut myself shaving or something.”

“Or something,” Jack agreed carefully, shooting a quick but unmissable glance between Hannibal and Will.

Will continued rubbing frantically at his throat, ignoring the dull pain it inflicted.

He glanced subtly at Hannibal, who was examining his fingernails with great interest.

“Here,” Jack said roughly, practically throwing him a tissue. Will took it wordlessly and dabbed at the cut.

“Anyway,” Jack said, clearing his throat. “Thoughts on the email?”

“I should be careful with what I say next. One wrong word and I’ll scare him away forever,” Will muttered, unspeakably happy for the subject change.

“Our guy likes to be cryptic. Maybe you should respond likewise,” Jack said, frowning, seemingly having moved on.

“It feels like I’m going to have to write poetry about myself,” Will said, grimacing.

Hannibal elicited a small chuckle. “He does the same. Why not?”

“If anyone were capable of writing poetry about themselves, it would be you,” Will said with a raised eyebrow.

Hannibal stopped chuckling and looked thoughtful for a moment. “You may be right,” he then said gracefully.

“I’m sure your poetry would be beautiful, Hannibal, but can we get back to the task at hand?” Jack said, his eyebrows raised in a mix of amusement and annoyance.

Will nodded. “Right. The poetry I’m supposed to be writing to him.”

“Call it what you will, I think it’s the best way to respond to him.”

“Imitate his manner of talking to you,” Hannibal nodded.

“That’s all fine and well, but I highly doubt I’m the best person for that task,” Will said, crossing his arms.

Jack slid a notepad and a pen across the desk. “You never know until you try. Go ahead. Try.”

Will glared at him, picking up the pen resignedly. It was quiet yet again as Will scribbled on the paper.

_I am hardly ever_

_Myself._

_I am you,_

_I am him,_

_I am her,_

_I am them._

_I am your glimpse of hope_

_Your beacon of light._

_My mind is a thousand snakes,_

_Curling and twisting into anyone’s mind_

_Wrapping itself around and_

_Never letting go._

_Tell me your secrets,_

_Your sins,_

_Your passions and fears,_

_And I will make them mine._

_No one knows me,_

_As no one knows you._

_Let me know you_

_And thereby,_

_Know me._

_I am Will Graham._

Jack was silent as he read. He was still silent when he handed the piece of paper to Hannibal. The latter read it, his face indecipherable.

“I think,” he said slowly as he handed the paper back to Will, “that this is exactly what the killer needs to hear.”

Will blinked. “So it’s appropriate, then?” he asked, barely hiding the surprise in his voice.

“I think it’s more than appropriate,” Jack said. “Hannibal put it best. I think this is exactly what he needs to hear.”

Will nodded, still uncertain. “All right. Then I’ll send it.”

Jack nodded, and waited for Will to type in the message and send it.

“All right,” Will said. “Done.”

“Good. Let me –”

“Know when I hear anything. Yup.”

“All right. I’ll see you soon.”

As they walked towards the exit, Will paused, his gaze turning toward Hannibal.

“…Yes?” Hannibal asked eventually when Will didn’t talk.

“You hadn’t forgotten about this, had you?” he gestured towards his neck.

Hannibal raised an innocent eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you wanted Jack to see it. You wanted that to happen, didn’t you?”

“Why would I want that, Will?” Hannibal said, sounding patiently indulgent.

“Because you want people to know. You want people to know that…”

“That what?” Hannibal asked, head tilted.

Will shook his head and continued walking. “Never mind,” he muttered.

_That I’m yours._

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“I’m afraid I have some business to attend to tonight.”

Will looked up from the files with a raised eyebrow. They were sitting in Hannibal’s study, Hannibal with the printed emails in his hands and Will with – yet again – the murder files.

“What kind of business?”

Hannibal gave a small smile, not looking up from the papers. He gave no further response.

“Right,” Will said flatly.

He slowly set the files down, his fingers tapping against the side of his leg.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Hannibal said after a long time of silence, still not looking up.

Will ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe.”

Hannibal finally set the papers aside and folded his hands in his lap, looking at Will patiently. “Go ahead.”

“Who are they?”

“He is a mere cog in the clockwork I am momentarily creating.”

Will tilted his head. “What kind of clockwork would that be?”

Hannibal gave him a smile. “You’ll see. Eventually. For the moment, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Well, I kind of am. You know why?”

“Because tomorrow, or the day after, you’re going to be having to stand over his body and tell Jack what you see.”

“Exactly.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I’m a good liar, Hannibal. But I want to know what state I’m going to find him in,” Will said, feeling his throat getting tight.

Hannibal tilted his head. “Why? To prepare yourself or to enjoy the mental image?”

Will looked away. “I’m not at the stage where I can enjoy that mental image.”

“Yet,” Hannibal finished for him. “Anyway, you don’t have to lie. Just tell Jack what you see. It’s what you’ve always done, isn’t it? And it hasn’t ever led to me.”

“Yet,” Will said quietly.

Hannibal was silent for a moment. “You’ll reach that stage, Will,” he then murmured. “The capacity is already there, only just visible behind your eyes. There will be a day where you will see what I do as acts of beauty, of art – of nature.”

Will looked up, his face grim. “With your help?”

“You don’t need my help, dear Will – however, I would be glad to give it if you asked. But you must ask.”

Will stood up, going to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Don’t hold your breath,” he muttered, his back towards Hannibal.

“Noted,” Hannibal said with a hint of amusement.

“You know,” Will said, downing his whiskey in one go and pouring another glass, “you act so nonchalant about all of this. Always. But don’t think that’s got me fooled.”

Hannibal turned halfway, just enough for Will to see the raised eyebrows. “Oh?”

Will walked over to him, standing at his back. He took a sip of the whiskey and put it on the desk. He leaned forward slowly, silently, until his lips were at Hannibal’s ear.

“I know this matters to you,” he whispered, and he could see Hannibal’s hand tightening ever so slightly on his glass of wine.

He allowed himself a discreet grin, and ran his hand along the side of Hannibal’s throat. The latter’s head remained unturned.

“See what I mean?” Will murmured, his hand coming to rest at the front of Hannibal’s throat. “Your pulse.”

“Get to the point, please,” Hannibal said, his voice tight.

“My point,” Will said, leaning forward so his arms fell over Hannibal’s shoulders and his hands rested on his abdomen, “is that this is dangerous for you. It’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself to care about someone’s opinion of you. Not the ‘you’ you show to everyone else, but the ‘you’ that’s hidden behind a carefully constructed mask. My rejection would shatter you.”

“…Perhaps,” Hannibal said quietly, carefully setting down his glass of wine to take Will’s hand. “But vice versa.”

Will laughed, and it sounded cruel, even to his own ears. “We both know you’re not going to reject me, Hannibal. We’re far past that point. We were past that point when you tried to drug me into starting therapy with you.”

“You enjoy this,” Hannibal said breathlessly, leaning his head back as Will’s hand crept further down. “You enjoy this power you have over me.”

“I really do,” Will said, pressing a kiss under Hannibal’s ear. “Must be quite a shock to your system, no? Not being completely in control of someone for once?”

“I could never control you, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice hitching slightly as Will opened Hannibal’s trousers. “Nor would I wish to.”

“Wrong,” Will whispered, his hand tightening around Hannibal. “You’ve tried. You’ve tried a lot. When did you realise you would never be able to?”

“Once I realised you know who I am.”

“What you are.”

“What I am. Once I realised you were not one to be blinded by false pretenses, however meticulously they may have been constructed.”

“Good. So, fairly early on, then.”

“…Yes,” Hannibal said, his voice strained now.

“And yet, instead of feeling threatened, you only felt allured. What does that say about you, I wonder?”

Hannibal’s hands were coming up into Will’s hair, his fingers tightening. “Just as much as it says about you, I imagine.”

“Fair enough.”

“You have a cruel side to you, Will,” Hannibal said with a chuckle, which was then broken by a soft gasp.

“Do I?” asked Will, his voice sounding genuinely intrigued.

“Oh, yes. You enjoy being able to – as you put it – shatter me, at any moment. It brings you pleasure to hold that power over me.”

Will gave a small shrug. “I won’t deny that. Anyway, the fact that you’re still able to talk –” Will moved to the front of Hannibal, straddling his lap – “means I’m doing something wrong.”

It would be a long while before Hannibal could utter coherent sentences again.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Will had decided to go back home while Hannibal was taking care of his… business. He was reading over the email he had sent the Cradle Snatcher, trying to not anxiously wait for a response.

Buster was on his lap, blissfully unaware of anything but the scratching behind his ears. Will sighed, putting away his laptop.

“I envy you, Buster,” he said with a wry smile.

Buster looked up at him with adoring eyes, his tongue sticking out a little in his appreciation. His eyes shot to the door and a low growl escaped him all of a sudden as he sat upright in Will’s lap.

Will frowned, and a few seconds later there was a knock at his door.

“Calm down,” he muttered to the dogs, a couple of whom were now barking.

He grabbed his gun off the table and put it in the back of his jeans, walking to the door.

“Who is it?” he called cautiously.

“Dr. Du Maurier,” came the smooth voice from the other side of the door.

He frowned, opening it. Bedelia Du Maurier was standing with one hand in her pocket and the other carrying her black purse. She was wearing a navy-blue jacket and a matching hat. She looked as refined as Will remembered her.

“It’s nine in the evening. What are you doing here?” Will asked as greeting.

She gave a cold smile. “May I come in?”

Will stepped back, allowing her to step inside. “How did you find out where I live?”

She came inside, pulling off her gloves and looking around. “Is Hannibal here?”

Will was quiet for a moment. “No.”

She nodded. “Good.”

“I’ll ask again, how did you find out where I live?” Will said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“I looked in Hannibal’s schedule during the dinner. He had your name and address written beside one of your first appointments.”

Will nodded. “Why?”

“Because I figured it would be a good idea for me to speak to you properly. In private. Have you got any wine?”

Bedelia sat down on the sofa, looking almost comically out of place in his little living room, surrounded by his dogs. She reminded him a bit of Hannibal in that way.

“Red or white?” Will asked after a moment’s hesitation.

“White, I think,” Bedelia said lightly, taking off her hat and setting it gingerly on the table.

He poured them both a glass of wine, setting hers down in front of her, before taking a seat in the armchair opposite the couch.

“So. You came here to talk. Then talk,” he said coolly, taking a sip of his wine.

Bedelia took a sip of her own wine, closing her eyes briefly as she swallowed, before setting her glass down on the table carefully.

“I see you’ve taken no heed of my warning at the dinner.”

“You see correctly,” Will said shortly.

“May I ask why?” her voice was gentle, but in a way a lioness would be gentle playing with her prey, luring it into a false sense of security.

“Because I am more aware of my situation than you think,” Will said.

“Is that so?” she took another small sip of her wine.

“It is,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Why would you want to warn me?”

“Because…” she studied the wine, swirling it around in the glass, “I am more aware of your situation than you think.”

It was silent for a moment.

“Explain,” Will then said.

She took a breath, seeming to think about what to say next. When she did speak, it was with utter carefulness and calculation.

“I am not sure what Hannibal is. I am not sure what it is that I’m aware of, exactly. But I do know this.” She leaned forward, her silver necklace swinging back and forth against her chest. “Hannibal Lecter is not what he seems. He is… dangerous. I have once caught a glimpse of what lies behind the veil, and it is not human. It is poison.”

Will was quiet for a few moments. “When and how have you caught a glimpse behind the veil?” he then asked softly.

Bedelia leaned back, a cruel smile on her face. “I had an incident with a patient referred to me by Hannibal. He was convinced there was something… wrong with Hannibal. In hindsight, I should have believed him.”

She paused, taking another sip of wine. “He came to my office one day, completely frantic, accusing me and Hannibal of working together to deceive and manipulate him. He got… upset. So upset he started choking on his own tongue.”

Will stared at her, his fingers twitching ever so slightly at his side.

“I tried to save him. At first. At some point, while my hand was down his throat, trying to clear his airway – something shifted in me. He was weak, and it disgusted me. So instead of pulling my hand out, I pushed it farther down. So far down that my arm was covered in his blood when I pulled it out. I killed him.”

She paused, letting those words hover in the air. Will didn’t say anything.

“Hannibal walked in. He understood what had happened. He offered to help me, but only if I asked.”

“And did you?” Will murmured, his hand clenched into a fist now.

“I did,” Bedelia said calmly. “He did it with utter serenity, utter control. His actions were those of someone who had done this often before. No second thoughts, no doubts. He knew exactly what to do and what to say.”

“And you got off scot-free,” Will said quietly.

Bedelia nodded. “I did. But I am convinced that Hannibal has done more than that. And I am convinced that you – you are not safe.”

“Is that why you came here? Because you’re worried for my wellbeing?” Will scoffed, downing his wine.

Bedelia gave a small smile. “Why did you continue to see Hannibal after what I said?”

“Because I’m not afraid of him,” Will said honestly.

“So you realised, even before I spoke to you, that there was something… wrong.”

“I realised there was a side to him he doesn’t show anyone,” Will said calmly.

“But he shows you,” Bedelia said slowly, realisation flooding her features.

Will didn’t reply.

“Are you on his side of the veil, Will Graham?” she then asked quietly, her eyes flitting to the door so quickly he barely caught it.

“You’re afraid,” Will murmured. “What do you think might happen?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Afraid? No. Wary would be a better word. I am starting to realise that my coming here was not necessary and may have even worked in my disfavour.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Will said calmly.

“Not so long as you don’t have reason to,” Bedelia replied, a wry smile on her face.

Will couldn’t bring himself to argue with that.

She stood, gathering her things. “I sincerely hope that whatever your intentions, you are, as you say, fully aware of the situation you are in.”

Will stood as well. “I know what I’m doing.”

Bedelia paused at the door. “Then perhaps… you deserve each other. Good night, Mr. Graham.”

She closed the door gently on her way out, leaving Will to stand in his living room, mind spinning.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone, thank you for the support!! i love you all <3 hope you enjoy x

**Chapter 23**

Hannibal had mutilated this man almost beyond recognition. As Will stood before his corpse, he realised he barely saw the Chesapeake Ripper in this body. His throat was slashed so deeply he was almost decapitated, and he had been strung up on a lone wooden pole that stood in the middle of a field. There was a deep gash in his abdomen where some of his internal organs had obviously been removed. His face had been… gashed over and over again, coagulated blood clinging to every surface, hanging from his face – reminding Will sickeningly of thick caramel.

“Will…” Jack said quietly, and time seemed to slow down as Will looked up at him.

_“What do you see?”_

The words reverberated in his mind, bouncing off the inside of his skull.

He saw carnage, messiness, pure unadulterated rage. He saw things that were completely out of character for the Chesapeake Ripper. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.

But then –

“Will?”

Will swallowed harshly, turning to Jack. “This is… incredibly unlike the Chesapeake Ripper, but it is him. He’s… showing us his contempt, his utter disgust for humanity. Maybe even possibly for this person in particular. Be sure to do a thorough background check.”

Jack nodded sourly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Do you think he’s finally losing it?”

Will’s hand did a violent twitch at his side. He turned to Jack and shrugged. “Maybe.”

He walked away from the crime scene, his stomach clenched with the blatant lies he had just told.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Will.”

He turned to see Beverly hurrying along to catch up with him.

“Jesus, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?” she asked, gloved hand resting on her side.

Will gave a thin smile. “I’ve been all right. You?”

She nodded, giving him a once-over. “Yeah, me too. The Chesapeake Ripper always manages to bring us together, doesn’t he.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “That he does.”

She crossed her arms, looking troubled. “Jack told us that you’ve established a line of communication with the killer. Sent emails back and forth. That plan really kicked off, huh?”

Will nodded. “Seems like it did.”

“We –” Beverly looked back at Zeller, who was calling for her. “We should get coffee. Or whiskey. Whichever we’re more in the mood for.”

“That would be nice,” Will said with a smile that wasn’t entirely genuine for reasons he couldn’t quite name.

She returned it. “Good. I’ll call you later, okay? See you.”

With that, she turned and hurried over towards the others, leaving Will to walk to his car by himself.

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Will sat at home, staring at the wall as he had done for the past hour. The only times his eyes wavered from that wall was when his phone buzzed, which it had quite often, especially in the last 20 minutes.

He ignored all of Hannibal’s calls.

He had come to a realisation that afternoon, and with that realisation more had come. They made him… not frightened, exactly, but wary. And angry. Angry most of all.

Angry that Hannibal didn’t think him competent enough to entrust him with what he now had to find out for himself. Angry that Hannibal was still playing games. Keeping secrets.

Finally, after another half hour of riling himself up and trying not to glance too much at his phone, he grabbed it and dialed Beverly’s number.

“Hey. You free yet?” he said.

He heard her snort. “Um, yeah. I was gonna call you in like, five minutes.”

“Good. Drinks in town?”

“Sure. When –”

“Now. I’ll see you there.”

“Uh, all right, I’ll text you the address,” she said with confused amusement.

Will hung up, threw on his coat and went to his car.

A little while later, they were sitting at the same bar they’d been to last time, and Will’s phone was off and in his pocket.

Beverly stared at him with raised eyebrows as he downed his drink in one go.

“Rough week, huh?” she said, sounding semi-amused.

“You could say that,” Will grunted, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve.

“Wanna talk about it?” Beverly asked casually.

Will took a breath, not sure how to continue. “It’s… there’s not much to talk about, really. I’m just fucking tired.”

She nodded, a small frown taking over her features. “I know how you feel.”

It was quiet for a moment, both of them staring into their now empty glasses.

“I miss how it used to be, you know,” Beverly said suddenly. “I mean, this work is never fun, in the traditional sense, but it felt like we were achieving something. We were achieving… justice, I guess, for the person murdered, and maybe some peace for their family. But this…”

She took a breath and looked away. “This just feels like we’re playing some kind of sick, twisted game with someone who’s always at least ten steps ahead of us.”

Will frowned. “We’re catching up to him, Beverly.”

She nodded. “I know. But how many more children will have to die before we finally do? I mean, sure, it’s been a while, but there’s no fucking doubt in my mind that there’s going to be more. And, no matter how far we’ve come at that point… it will always feel like we’ve already lost.”

Wil nodded. “I know. I know. To be honest, I’m kind of hoping that he’s been a bit preoccupied with… us. That those emails are his main focus right now. That for a little while, it might be enough distraction for us to catch him before he finally does kill another.”

“With you, you mean.”

“What?”

“He’s been a bit preoccupied with you.” Beverly looked up at him, her eyes grim.

Will sucked in a breath. “…Maybe.”

“Just… be careful, Will.”

He smiled uncomfortably. “You’re starting to sound like Alana.”

“I don’t give a shit. You’re speaking directly to him. Granted, there’s a bunch of people checking what you send him, but in the end, he thinks he’s just talking to you. And we know more than others what people like that are capable of.”

Will nodded. “I know. I’ll be careful, Beverly. Don’t worry about me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that one before,” she said with a wry grin.

Will bit the inside of his cheek. “Point taken.”

“Anyway. Lighter subjects,” Beverly then said, stretching out, her hands behind her head. “How’s things with you and, uh, Dr. Lecter?”

He knew she was trying to cheer them up, but that question only soured his mood even further. Apparently it was visible, because she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Wrong subject?”

Will bit his lip, and they ordered more drinks. “You could say that,” he said after the long pause in conversation.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked again gingerly.

Will rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “I guess… he keeps underestimating me and how much I’m aware of, and I’m starting to grow sick of it,” he then said slowly.

She nodded, swirling around her wine. “I’m going to go ahead and assume there’s a lot behind this you’re not telling me, and you don’t want to tell me, and it’s fine. Is it bad?”

Will nodded slowly. “It’s pretty bad, yeah.”

 “Huh,” Beverly said thoughtfully. “Bad enough to call it quits?”

_Never._

“I don’t think so,” he replied, shocked at that thought and trying not to show it. “It’s just… something I need to discuss with him.”

“Tonight?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Ah. So this is… liquid courage slash pep-talk time,” she said with a smile, raising her eyebrows.

Will frowned. “No. No, this is spending time with my friend. Yeah, I might need a distraction right now, but I think you do as well.”

Beverly blinked at him for a couple of seconds, then looked back down at her drink. “I guess you’re right.”

“So. Lighter subjects,” he then said with a cough.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

This time, Will found himself in a cab instead of Hannibal’s car. Beverly had taken a different cab, since they lived absolutely nowhere near each other. After an uncharacteristically affectionate goodbye they had gone their separate ways. Will still hadn’t turned his phone on. This fact gave him a strange sense of calm. No emails from serial killers to agonise over, no messages or missed calls from a different serial killer to agonise over (in a different way), either.

He dozed off while in the cab, everything he had been so worried about seeming miles away now. It was dark, it was quiet, and the low sound of the radio in the background was strangely comforting. After what simultaneously felt like 4 hours and five minutes, the cab pulled up in front of his house. He paid the driver, then stumbled out onto the driveway, making his way to the porch. He opened his door with way too much difficulty and slammed it shut behind him, eternally grateful he had no neighbours close enough to hear him.

He turned on the light and nearly had a heart attack.

Hannibal was sitting on the chair in the living room, Winston sleeping on the floor next to him.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hello to you, too.”

Hannibal’s tone and demeanor were cool, Will wasn’t drunk enough to miss that.

“Fucking hell, Hannibal. Did you break into my house?” Will exclaimed, still a tad breathless as he tossed his jacket onto the floor.

Hannibal gave a small shrug. “Not the term I would have used.”

“But yes,” Will finished for him, shaking his head. “You can’t fucking do that.”

“I was worried, Will. You didn’t reply to my messages and your phone went straight to voicemail.”

“So you decided to break in and sit in the dark like some sort of creepy horror-movie villain?” Will snapped, doing his best to walk in a straight line to his sink (and failing miserably) to get himself a glass of water.

Hannibal didn’t reply and as Will filled a glass with water from the tap it sounded strangely loud.

“I don’t appreciate this, Will,” Hannibal then said, very softly.

Will glared at him as he drank his water. He filled another glass, still not saying anything.

“There is a serial killer aware of your presence and –”

The sound of glass shattering was deafening as Will threw his glass at the wall. A small part of him watched it break apart and fall down in glittering shards, the water tumbling down in slow-motion. The rest of him was filled with indescribable rage.

“You don’t get to fucking tell me that I’m in danger and need to be careful. _You_ of all fucking people don’t get to tell me that,” Will snarled, hands shaking.

If Hannibal was at all shocked at what had just happened, he didn’t show it. It was more the opposite, there was a cold impassiveness on his face as he observed Will. He continued to look at him wordlessly, head slightly tilted.

Will threw his head back and laughed cruelly. “You’re hurt. You’re nervous. Most of all, you’re unsure. Want to know how I know?”

He leaned against the counter, fighting the spinning sensation that was threatening to rise up. “All traces of emotion disappear from your face. You completely shut down. You literally put up a wall – or veil, is probably the better description – and revert into the proper psychopath. I can’t hurt you if you can’t be hurt, can I? Notice how I say ‘ _I_ can’t hurt you’ and not ‘ _no one_ can hurt you’ because I’m the only person that actually can, aren’t I?”

Hannibal was quiet for a long time. Long enough for Will to slowly start regretting his words. Not enough to say it out loud, though.

“You’re hurt,” Hannibal finally said, dangerously quiet, “and frightened. Do you want to know how I know?”

Will swallowed thickly, not replying.

“I know because you’re terribly rude when you’re frightened, Will. And you’re cruel when you’re hurt. I can’t hurt you if you hurt me first, can I?” Hannibal said this with a cold, detached smile, his eyes dark as he regarded Will.

He suddenly remembered Hannibal’s words about him having limited patience. Even for him.

“I may be hurt. And frightened,” he said, all the wild fury of a few moments ago draining out of him, “but above all, I’m angry. I’m fucking furious.”

Hannibal continued to stare at him wordlessly, and Will knew he wasn’t going to ask why. He was too angry – and too proud – for that.

Will took a breath and prepared to be the bigger man.

“When we agreed to do this, we agreed to be completely open with each other. Right now I’ll tell you I can’t fucking remember if we literally said it out loud, but it pretty much came with the description.”

He saw a flicker of something in Hannibal’s face – he didn’t know what, but it was enough to know that he was listening.

“You haven’t been open with me,” Will said quietly, walking over to the couch and sinking down onto it.

Hannibal shifted. “You’re talking about –”

“The murder, yeah.”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned forward, his features softening. “Will,” he murmured, “there are some things I’m not telling you right now for your own—”

“Protection?” Will asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hannibal leaned back again. “Yes,” he said, suddenly sounding incredibly tired.

Will shook his head. “I don’t need to be protected.”

Hannibal nodded slowly. “I know. And I suspect you have figured out what I haven’t been telling you.”

Will sniffed. “I’m pretty sure I have.”

It was silent for a few moments.

“You should have just told me.”

Hannibal looked away. “…Perhaps you’re right.”

“I can’t keep doing this with you if you don’t see me as your equal, Hannibal,” Will said, his throat feeling tight.

“I see you as my equal,” Hannibal said with a frown.

“No, you don’t. If you did, you would tell me these things. I had to find out for myself.”

Hannibal opened his mouth to argue, then slowly closed it again. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said again slowly.

They looked at each other in silence for a while. Finally, Will stood up.

“I’m going to go throw up, and then I’m going to bed. You’re free to do… whatever.”

After a little while, he was lying in bed, his teeth thoroughly brushed. He fell asleep almost immediately.

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Everything was still spinning. There was an arm around him now, lips on his neck and then at his ear.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” The words were spoken in a whisper, so soft it was almost inaudible. They swam around in his head and seemed to echo. “I love you.”

“Me too,” he managed to breathe, and he felt himself being pulled tight towards Hannibal’s chest.

He fell asleep again, not sure whether he was dreaming or not.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Miles away, there was a gift waiting for him.

A gift that wouldn’t be discovered until a few days later.

A gift with his name on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically how that part went in my head:
> 
> will: u know what hannibal im fucking sick of u not telling me shit & not seeing me as ur equal how the fuck do u ever expect us to become murder husbands if u keep hiding shit from me im fucking sick of your bullshit and u cant tell me its not true bc take a look at exhibit A through S its all u fucking do *this continues for another 20 mins* so what do u have to say for yourself u secretive untrusting lying bitch????
> 
> hannibal: ..........Mayhaps You Have a Point.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the support everyone, enjoy! <3

**Chapter 24**

Will woke to the smell of coffee and eggs. His stomach grumbled, although he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from hunger or nausea. He groaned, opening his eyes and blinking furiously against the bright sunlight. He turned over, and saw with great gratitude that there was a glass of water and a couple of aspirin on the bedside table. He sat up, head thumping, and took the aspirin before downing the entire glass of water.

After that he got up and had a quick shower, feeling at least a lot fresher after getting dressed and brushing his teeth.

He made his way to the kitchen where Hannibal was just plating up their breakfast. The latter was already dressed, albeit in the same clothes from last night. Will swallowed at the realisation that he hadn’t counted on staying the night.

“Good morning,” Hannibal said with a careful smile, gesturing to the table. “Just in time.”

Will nodded. “Morning. Thanks.”

He went straight for the coffee, sitting down heavily at the table. Hannibal sat down opposite him.

“How are you feeling?” Hannibal asked nonchalantly, digging into his breakfast.

Will let out a breath. “Eh.”

Hannibal nodded, and it was silent for a while. Will looked up at him. “You?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“How are you feeling?”

Hannibal looked amused, and he took a sip of his coffee. “Not hungover, thankfully.”

Will glanced at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Hannibal nodded. “I know.”

There was another moment of silence.

“I’m feeling… calm. I feel like we have reached an understanding. And I am happy about that.”

Will nodded slowly. “That’s a… good way to put it.”

“I only ask one thing of you, Will.”

“What’s that?” Will asked warily, leaning back in his seat.

“I ask that we do not speak of this until after it’s done,” Hannibal said simply.

Will sniffed. “Why?”

Hannibal gave him a look. “I think you know why.”

Will nodded. “Sure. But what makes you think I was going to speak of it in the first place?”

“I know you’ll have your questions. And your opinions.”

“I assume my questions will be answered once it’s done. As for my opinions… yes, I have a few of those.”

“Please, and I mean this with the utmost respect, save them for after.”

Will frowned. “Why? Afraid I’ll make you change your mind?”

“No. I’m afraid it will lead to unnecessary arguments which will get us nowhere. It has to be done, it’s as simple as that.”

Will took a gulp of coffee. “I don’t… entirely approve.”

Hannibal nodded. “I know. And I am genuinely sorry about that. But you know this is how things must go.”

Will didn’t say anything, prodding his eggs around in silence.

“Will?” Hannibal said quietly.

He nodded slowly. “I know,” he murmured. “But don’t expect me to take any part in this.”

Hannibal shook his head. “I don’t. You will have nothing to do with this.”

Will shifted. “Now that’s not entirely true, is it.”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, just looking at him. “I love you, Will,” he suddenly said, his voice clear but quiet.

Will blinked, swallowed harshly. “I… I love you too,” he said slowly, realising how true it was.

Hannibal smiled at him; a soft, strange smile which seemed to convey everything that wasn’t spoken. Will ran a hand through his hair and chuckled breathlessly.

“You pick your moments, don’t you?” he said lightly, trying to feign normalcy by scooping the rest of his breakfast into his mouth.

“So I’ve been told. That doesn’t mean I feel it any less.”

Will shrugged. “Good point.”

“Have you had any other messages from the killer?”

Will blinked again. “I’m getting whiplash here. And no idea. Haven’t turned on my phone yet.”

Hannibal nodded, and Will stood and took their dishes to the sink to wash. As the water was running, Hannibal poured them both another cup of coffee.

“I really do, you know,” Will said abruptly, not turning around.

“Do what?”

“Love you,” he said, keeping his eyes on the dishes.

Hannibal came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Will’s waist. “Thank god for that,” he said in an amused tone, but Will could hear the underlying sincerity in that statement.

Will finished washing the dishes in silence, and as Hannibal made to let go and move away, Will turned around and wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s waist.

They just looked at each other for a few moments. Will studied Hannibal’s face, the slope of his cheekbones, the curve of his mouth, his eyes which were such a deep brown that sometimes they almost appeared red. He knew that whatever happened, even if he never saw Hannibal again after this day, he would always remember this face.

“What are you thinking?” Hannibal asked softly, breaking the silence, his hand coming up to lightly brush Will’s jaw.

Will smiled weakly and shook his head. “I’m thinking…” he whispered, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching, “that you are probably the best and the worst person I have ever known.”

Hannibal chuckled quietly, leaning in for a brief kiss. “Likewise,” he whispered.

They stood there, holding each other, for what simultaneously seemed like an eternity and a few seconds.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

There was nothing from the Cradle Snatcher.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Will, I wanted to speak to you separately before the others join.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Others?”

Jack nodded. “The Chesapeake Ripper’s latest victim.”

“What about him?”

Jack cleared his throat. “He was, uh. Someone we knew.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “All of us?”

“Most of us. Don’t think you knew him. We didn’t find out who he was immediately because of how badly he was mutilated.”

“Who was it?” Will asked quietly.

“Dr. Donald Sutcliffe. Ring a bell?” Jack asked gravely.

Will shook his head. “No.”

“He was a neurologist at Noble Hills Care Centre. I didn’t know him that well but I’d met him a couple of times.”

“So who did know him?” Will asked, frowning.

“Dr. Bloom, Dr. Chilton and Dr. Lecter,” Jack said with a sigh.

Will nodded once. “Right. So you think this means…?”

Jack gave him an odd look. “He’s getting closer. He’s targeted someone known by people who are affiliated with the FBI.”

“And you’re afraid his next murder might be someone who actually works for the FBI,” Will said slowly, turning cold. This thought had not yet occurred to him.

“I feel like he’s taunting me,” Jack said quietly, staring almost miserably at the pictures of the crime scene. “Edging closer and closer to me, slipping between my fingers.”

“You shouldn’t take it this personally, Jack,” Will muttered, averting his eyes from the pictures.

“Can you blame me?” Jack said, frustrated.

Will shook his head. “No,” he said quietly.

It was quiet for a few moments.

“Have you heard anything from the Cradle Snatcher?” Jack then asked, running a hand over his head.

Will shook his head. “Nope. Nothing.”

“Hm. Don’t like that,” Jack muttered.

“Me neither,” Will admitted, his fingers anxiously tapping the pocket containing his phone.

Before anything else could be said, there was a knock at the door.

“That’ll be them,” Jack said, standing up. “Just a moment!”

“Do I have to be here for this?” Will grunted, stretching.

Jack shot him a glare and opened his mouth to reply, before snapping it shut again thoughtfully.

“You know what, Will?”

“What?” Will said, almost nervous now.

“You got any classes today?” Jack asked, still thoughtful.

Will shook his head. Jack nodded.

“Good. Go on home, Will. Take the rest of the day off,” Jack said, now resolute.

“O…kay?” Will said, blinking. “…Why?”

Jack shrugged. “I haven’t forgotten about everything that’s happened. It’s important for you to take a break now and then.”

Will stood as there was a second knock on the door. “Thanks, Jack,” he said slowly.

“Yeah. You know where to find me,” Jack said with a raised eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his face.

Will gave a weak smile of his own and nodded, before opening the door.

“Hi,” he said wryly to Alana, Chilton and Hannibal, who each watched him leave with their own version of bewilderment.

Will looked back once, meeting Hannibal’s eye, and not completely being able to return the smile he gave.

One day, the Chesapeake Ripper was going to kill someone who worked for the FBI.

Will had a feeling that day wasn’t far away. Not far away at all.

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“You alive?”

Will smiled, his eyes closed and his phone in one hand, glass of whiskey in the other. “I’m drinking again, so yeah.”

Beverly snorted. “I felt like I was in my twenties again this morning. Almost walked into the lab with my sunglasses on. Thank god Zeller reminded me to take them off, or it would have been kind of awkward to explain to Jack.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling so hot myself,” Will said, thinking of the headache which had lasted well into the afternoon. “I hope it isn’t possible to overdose on aspirin.”

Beverly chuckled. “If that were the case, I’d have overdosed a long time ago. I think you need to take like a hundred in one go before you can actually overdose.”

“Nice. Next time I’m taking 99 then,” Will said with a grin.

“Right there with you,” Beverly said. She was quiet for a moment. “Did things work out between you and Hannibal?”

Will took a moment to look at the time. “I’m about to go and spend the night, so yeah.”

“That’s good,” Beverly said genuinely. “Said everything you wanted to say?”

“Yeah,” Will said slowly. “Pretty much.”

“Good. That’s good,” Beverly said again.

“You just home, or…?”

“Yeah. We spent the day getting right into Dr. Sutcliffe. Literally. Was kinda surprised you weren’t there, though.”

“Jack gave me the rest of the day off,” Will said. “Yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“Damn. That would have done me good. I’ve been able to build up a great tolerance over the last few years, but being hungover and elbow-deep into a guy that’s been mutilated as much as Sutcliffe has made even my stomach turn a couple of times.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “Find anything?” he then asked.

He heard a sigh.

“Nope. Not yet. Not that I expect to find anything. Liver and stomach are missing, rest of the guts all tangled up. Cause of death is strangulation. He’d been slashed open wildly, like the Ripper was in a hurry, or…”

“Angry,” Will said quietly.

“Yeah,” Beverly said. “Although that isn’t really consistent with the Ripper, is it?”

“No. Maybe, as Jack put it, he’s finally losing it.”

“Huh. Never thought I’d live to see the day. Anyway, his face was slashed a bunch of times as well. Do you think this means that soon he’ll become reckless?”

Will sighed, staring at the wall. “I don’t know, Beverly. Maybe.”

“Let’s hope so,” she said sincerely.

“I’ve got to go,” Will said after a brief pause. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I think.”

“Yeah. Wait, should you be driving?”

Will snorted despite himself. “I’ve had half a glass of whiskey.”

“Okay. All right then, Will. See you tomorrow.”

Will hung up, his stomach twisting.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Hannibal served him liver that evening. Liver with saffron rice, smoked paprika, braised pork belly and other garnishes. But still liver. As Will scooped the last, unfortunately delicious pieces into his mouth, a thought occurred to him.

“What did you do with the stomach?” he asked calmly, reaching for his glass of wine.

“I put it in the freezer,” Hannibal said without missing a beat, not looking up from his plate.

Will stared at him for a little while, not having expected this forth-right answer. Then he laughed quietly, raising his glass at the bemused Hannibal.

“Progress,” he grinned.

Hannibal returned the smile after a moment, raising his glass as well before taking a small sip.

“By the way,” Will said, putting his cutlery neatly on his plate, “Bedelia came to visit me the other night.”

Will watched Hannibal’s movements carefully, catching the slight pause he made. “Did she?” he then asked lightly.

Will nodded. “She did.”

“To what end?”

Will took a breath, swirling around the wine in his glass. “To warn me to stay away from you. Basically, what she said at the dinner party, but more detailed.”

Hannibal looked up at him. “Detailed how?”

“Detailed as in telling me about the time you… helped her.”

Hannibal was quiet for a long moment. “I see.”

“She asked for your help, the way you want me to do.” Will looked at him as he said this, eyes not wavering from Hannibal’s.

Hannibal shook his head. “No. Not the way I want you to do. You and her are not in the least comparable.”

“Then what’s the difference?” Will asked quietly, leaning forward.

“I want you to ask for help, Will,” Hannibal murmured, leaning forward as well, “because it is what you absolutely want at that moment. Not because I can offer you an escape, not because I can help build your alibi. But because you have done something in a moment of pure, unadulterated power, and you want me to join you.”

Will was quiet for a long while. “I see,” he then repeated softly. “She seemed genuinely worried for my wellbeing,” he added as an afterthought.

“She might have to be taken care of,” Hannibal said thoughtfully. “Unfortunate as it is.”

“Well…” Will said, running a hand through his hair, “maybe not. Not yet, at least.”

Hannibal raised an amused eyebrow. “Are you feeling sympathetic towards her?”

Will snorted. “No.”

“Good. If that were the case, she would have to be taken care of a lot sooner.”

Will rolled his eyes, then frowned. “No, I’m not feeling affectionate towards her. I just feel like… she’s clever. Too clever to ever come forward with her thoughts. Too clever to be killed. It would be a waste.”

Hannibal nodded slowly. “I must say I agree with you. I will leave her be, then. For the time being, at least.”

Will nodded, feeling weirdly relieved at this.

“But do tell me if she ever decides to pay you any more late-night visits. I might be inclined to disregard that cleverness.”

“In place of jealousy?” Will asked, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

Hannibal gave a graceful shrug. “Call it what you will. I don’t think the exact phrasing would matter much to her, in the end.”

“I suppose not,” Will said, swallowing the rest of his wine.

“Come,” Hannibal said, standing. “I have an excellent brandy I’ve been wanting to share with you. Preferably in front of the fire with good music in the background.”

Will stood as well, taking Hannibal’s hand. “With or without clothing?”

Hannibal paused, turning back to him with a smile. “Whichever you prefer.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

There was still nothing from the Cradle Snatcher.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello its been a while... remember when i used to post chapters once a week? yeah me neither :)  
> anyway enjoy everyone xxxx

**Chapter 25**

It was almost a week later, and Will still hadn’t heard anything from the Cradle Snatcher. He was starting to get well and truly worried. He had concluded that there were two possibilities. Either the Cradle Snatcher had lost his confidence and decided that communicating with Will was too dangerous, too frightening etc., or… or. The Cradle Snatcher had left him a message in a different way, and Will was yet to find it. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

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The answer to this question came sooner than expected. When he arrived home from the BAU, there was a parcel sitting by his door. He looked around, hand going to his gun. He walked around his house, all his senses on high alert, before reaching the front again and discerning there was no one around. He stooped down to pick up the parcel, opening it where he stood. A CD fell into his hand, with the initials W. G. written on it.

He clenched his jaw, trying to calm the anxiety that had instantly risen up. There was a moment where he debated playing the CD without letting Jack know, before he decided against it. He went inside the house to make the call, though. The killer could still be watching.

“Will? Didn’t you just leave? What’s the matter?” came Jack’s voice, sounding confused.

“I, uh…” Will swallowed thickly. “I just got a package. There’s a CD inside with my initials on it.”

“What?” came the sharp retort. “Have you played it?”

“No.”

“Right. I’ll be there asap.”

“Hang on, Jack…” Will took a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “This was lying at my doorstep. I don’t know if the killer’s still around.”

“All the more reason for me to come. You might be in danger, Will,” Jack said firmly.

“Yeah, but if he sees you pulling up at my door, he’ll know what’s going on. He won’t trust me anymore.”

Jack was silent for a few moments, mulling this over. “So what do you suggest we do?”

Will let out a breath, running his hand through his hair. “I… I either play the CD on my laptop now or we wait until tomorrow. Either way, to the killer it has to look like a normal day for me.”

“Play it now,” Jack said curtly. “Tell me what you’re seeing.”

Will nodded to himself. “Hang on.”

He turned on his laptop, taking a breath before sticking the CD inside. It took a few moments before it started playing. When it did, though, Will had to push back the bile rising in his throat.

“And?” Jack said anxiously.

“It’s… it’s like the others. A kid. He’s… do I really need to describe exactly what’s happening?” Will said, pained.

“No. I get the message,” Jack said quietly.

Will stopped the video, putting the CD back in the parcel.

“So what does this mean?” Jack then said, although they both already knew the answer.

“It means there’s another body.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Will, Hannibal and Jack were in Jack’s office the next day, as agreed. Will was staring glumly at the blank computer screen as they waited for the video to play.

He swallowed harshly and looked away when it did, seeing no reason for him to relive the few seconds he’d already seen. Jack and Hannibal were looking at the screen, Jack grimacing, Hannibal repulsed but alert.

“He’s hiding himself again,” Hannibal said, frowning. “His voice is distorted but the child’s isn’t.”

“He’s also managed to film it in a way where he’s not visible.”

“Only his hands,” Will said darkly. Which were gloved, of course.

He stood up and walked away from the monitor, running his hands through his hair as he paced. After a few minutes of silence, besides the horrifying, distorted audio from the video, Jack leaned forward abruptly.

“Will,” Hannibal said sharply, and he rushed over to join them.

The video had changed. In quality, in audio, in scenery. The killer was now filming himself dragging the lifeless body of the little boy outside of what seemed to be a shed, onto a field, the blades of grass glimmering with frost. His laboured breathing was the only thing audible in the video, besides the sound of him dragging the body across the ground.

They watched in muted silence as the killer started digging. It was evidently hard to do since the ground was near frozen, and it took him quite some time to dig out an adequate hole. When he was done, he lifted the child up carefully and placed him in the hole, closing his eyes and crossing his hands to make it seem like he were sleeping peacefully.

The boy couldn’t have been older than five.

As far as sleeping peacefully was concerned, that illusion was broken by the fact that there was a huge gash running from the base of his neck to his groin. Blood was still trickling down the boy’s sides and throat, and Will realised with grim horror that steam was rising steadily from the wound. He had been murdered mere minutes before. The killer neatly folded the intestines back inside his belly, as an afterthought.

After arranging the body to how he evidently saw fit, the killer procured a bouquet of flowers, apparently from nowhere. Attached to the flowers was a card, and Will went absolutely cold.

The card was signed. The camera lingered on it for a good few seconds, letting them get a proper view of what was written.

_To my glimpse of hope,_

_My beacon of light._

The screen turned black. They were silent for a long time.

“He’s speaking –” Jack started.

“To me, yes,” Will said shortly. “Obviously.”

A message addressed directly to him on a murdered child’s body was something he could have gone the rest of his life without seeing.

“I’m going to play devil’s advocate here, and say that this is a good thing. In terms of him communicating with you,” Jack said grimly.

Will nodded, closing his eyes. “I know.”

“He will be expecting a reply,” Hannibal said with a raised eyebrow, crossing his legs.

“What we need to focus on,” Will said firmly, “is finding out where the body is.”

Jack nodded, his fingers typing away on his phone. “On it already. I’ll make a copy of the video and send it to the team.”

“No,” Will said, more forcefully than he had anticipated.

The others looked at him in confusion.

“I don’t know how smart this guy is, exactly, and what he’s bugged the CD with. He might know if we copy the contents of the CD. You’ll have to give them the original,” Will explained, feeling himself going a bit pink from his sudden outburst.

Jack nodded slowly. “All right, point taken. I’ll give them the original.”

“I doubt it will be difficult to discern what the location is,” Hannibal commented. “He has given us quite a view of the scenery.”

“There’s something else, though,” Will said, standing up and resuming his pacing. “The first part of the video was completely different to the second. Not just location or context wise, but…”

Hannibal nodded. “I know what you mean. It seemed like it was filmed by two different people.”

Jack sighed. “So we’re back on that track, then.”

Will nodded slowly. “I guess so.”

“I thought you were adamantly opposed against the theory?” Hannibal asked, eyebrows raised.

“That was before I saw… this. And, to be fair, the theory does hold merit. I just don’t understand how this would work.”

“Let’s worry about that later,” Jack said, rather surprisingly. “For now, let’s just focus on where the body is.”

“And your reply,” Hannibal added, glancing at Will.

“I’ll think of something,” Will said darkly.

He didn’t voice it to either of them, but for Will, this had just become personal.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Hannibal was right. It didn’t take them long to find out where the body was. They found the open grave and the shed in a field a few miles outside of Baltimore.

There was a trail of blood from the door of the shed to the grave. Inside the shed was a chair with rope still attached to the legs, and a huge puddle of blood on and around it. Other than that, it was bare.

Will stood there looking at the chair for a long time. It was a normal chair. The boy’s feet wouldn’t have even reached halfway down the legs of it. He closed his eyes, not wanting to imagine the last minutes of the boy’s life.

He had been tied to the chair, obviously. The killer had been standing in front of him. They might have been talking. The boy had most likely been crying. How had the killer reacted to that? Had he reacted at all? Had he felt guilt, pain, remorse, anything like that?

Or had he felt anger, hatred, satisfaction? Had he been glad to be the one to rid the world of this child? To cleanse, purge, coming closer and closer to how the world was supposed to be?

Or did the world not deserve this child, a person so innocent and uncorrupted? Did he have to put an end to the child’s life before he grew up to learn how awful the world really was?

Will opened his eyes, chewing his lip as he stared at the chair.

Or was it somehow a combination of all those things?

He turned, walking out of the shed. It was late afternoon and the sun was already setting. He gave the open grave a wide berth, avoiding Jack and the team as he did so. He looked up once, meeting Beverly’s eyes, which frowned back at him.

He got into his car and drove away, too lost in thought to think of anything but getting home.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Will. Where did you go? You disappeared on us.”

Will chewed the inside of his cheek, absent-mindedly petting Winston and holding the phone between his cheek and shoulder. “I had to go home. Clear my head.”

“Right. Is it sufficiently cleared?” Jack asked.

Will could hear he was trying to be patient, but really wanted him back at the BAU.

Will let out a breath. “I think so. Jack, this murder was… subdued, don’t you think?”

Jack was quiet for a few seconds. “Explain?”

“Well, I don’t have to remind you of the other victims. All incredibly graphic; having some form of artistic input, sure, but gory and explicit and pronounced. A decapitated head on a chair, staring at the last words its mouth had uttered. Organs and body parts hanging around the living room like some kind of deranged playroom. A body sliced in half and placed on two swings –”

“All right, Will. Get to the point.”

“All that’s happened to this victim is that he’s been cut open. There have been no theatricals, no exaggerated gore.”

“That’s not all that’s different, Will. The victim was holding a bouquet of flowers meant for you, in case you’ve forgotten,” Jack said darkly.

“I know. That’s my point,” Will said, exasperated. He slipped his jacket on as he spoke. “I’m thinking that that’s the reason the murder was more subdued. His main focus wasn’t… whatever exactly his main motive is, but me. He wanted to make sure I would know this was directed at me.”

He left the house and walked to his car.

“So you’re saying that you’re distracting him,” Jack said slowly.

“Exactly. I’m distracting him from his main purpose in life. Which is what I’d been hoping, but this has confirmed it.”

“All right. So now you reply to his gift,” Jack said.

Will sat down in his car, taking a breath. “Now I reply to his gift.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Alana couldn’t make it due to a lecture she was giving. Will thought it might be for the best. That meant, though, that it was him, Jack, Hannibal and Chilton. No sympathetic reasoning in this room today.

“Needless to say, frightening as it may be for Will that he’s being… admired in this way – this is a huge step in the investigation. The killer is reaching out to Will and has sent him a gift. This is better than we could have hoped for,” Jack began, glancing around everyone in the room.

“Unfortunately it involved the murder of a little boy,” Will added, crossing his arms.

Jack nodded. “You’re right. That is unfortunate. But think of it this way, because of him we’re now closer to finding the killer. And that means we’re closer to getting justice for him and every other child the Cradle Snatcher has killed.”

“A bouquet of flowers, hm?” Chilton asked with horrified interest.

Will nodded shortly. “A bouquet of flowers, a snuff film and a dead body.”

“Well, you know what you must do,” Chilton said, looking around as if the answer was obvious. When no one replied, he gave an astonished little chuckle. “You need to tell him you want to meet up!”

“It is still too soon,” Hannibal said impatiently, at the same time as Jack said, “Dr. Chilton, please.”

Will raised a hand. “Hang on,” he said quietly. He looked at Chilton. “You’re right.”

Chilton glanced at the others, as if unsure whether he had heard that correctly. “I… know. Thank you, Will,” he then said slowly, his tone growing more triumphant with every word.

Will nodded. “But,” he then said, raising his eyebrows. “Not now. Now, I send him a… a thank you note. And then, depending on how he responds to that, I ask him to meet.”

Chilton was about to protest before stopping himself. He nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, Will.”

“I agree. Convey your appreciation,” Jack said.

Will glanced at Hannibal, who was watching him with subtle amusement and raised eyebrows. He nodded once. “Agreed.”

Will nodded back, writing down his next message on a piece of paper.

_To the one that knows me,_

_Thank you for your thoughtful gifts._

_I hope one day to be able to return the gesture._

_Your glimpse of hope, your beacon of light_

After approval from the others, he typed it in an email and sent it.

As they left, Chilton gave him a semi-friendly nod.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Hannibal, who fell into stride beside Will easily.

“Stay with me tonight,” Hannibal said, and it wasn’t a question.

Will glanced at him before shrugging. “All right. I’ll be there at seven.”

Hannibal nodded, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “Good.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

After they had enjoyed their dinner in what Will thought was comfortable silence, he had followed Hannibal into the study.

When they each had their glasses of wine and had settled yet again into a comfortable silence, Hannibal put his hand on the back of Will’s neck.

“Why are you being so friendly to Dr. Chilton?” he asked casually, eyes not leaving the fire in front of them.

Will frowned and gave him a look. “I agreed with him because for once, he was making a point.”

Hannibal’s hand lightly squeezed the back of his neck, and Will looked at him warily.

“He seemed to think it went further than agreeing with him,” Hannibal said, still sounding as casual as he was before.

Will rolled his eyes. “Just because he mistakes agreeing with him with completely taking his side in everything forever, doesn’t mean it’s actually true. Don’t blame me for his skewed perspective.”

Hannibal nodded, not releasing Will’s neck. “I understand, Will. Just make sure he doesn’t get a chance to act on that skewered perspective.”

Will snorted, lifting Hannibal’s hand off his neck and squeezing it. “I really hope you’re not jealous,” he said teasingly.

Hannibal looked at him gravely. “I am not.”

Will’s small smile faded, and he nodded.

As Hannibal took his hand and kissed it lightly, Will slowly drew a breath to speak.

“This isn’t really about Chilton.” He stated it as fact, not as a question.

Hannibal’s lips froze on the back of his hand, and he slowly lowered it before letting it go.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

Will’s eyes flitted over Hannibal’s face, trying to take in every micro-expression.

The latter was keeping his face carefully blank.

“What I mean is,” he said slowly, not taking his eyes off Hannibal, “that you’re not jealous of Chilton. You’re jealous of the Cradle Snatcher.”

Hannibal took a sip of his wine. “And how did you come to that conclusion?” he then said coolly.

Will gave a small smile and took Hannibal’s hand. “Your reaction just now proves my point,” he said mildly.

“As I said, I am not jealous, Will. Not of Dr. Chilton nor the Cradle Snatcher,” Hannibal said, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Will nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“What I _am_ ,” Hannibal then said, squeezing Will’s hand tighter, “is angry.”

Will blinked. “Angry?”

Hannibal nodded. “I am angry. He is under the assumption that the two of you have a unique connection. For the development of the case, this is fine. But—” He ran his fingers along Will’s jaw, before moving his hand to the back of Will’s head and taking hold of his hair— “if he ever decides to act on this, more than he already has, it will stop being fine. I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

“By taking matters into your own hands, do you mean ruining the progress of the case by scaring him off?” Will said, a bit breathless.

Hannibal’s hand tightened in his hair, and he gave a small gasp.

“You know what I mean,” Hannibal murmured.

Will laughed, being cut short by Hannibal pulling even tighter. “The Chesapeake Ripper versus the Cradle Snatcher. What I would do to witness that,” he grinned, the idea making him feel… something unexpected.

Excitement? Satisfaction?

Hannibal gave him a curious look before leaning forward and kissing him slowly. “Perhaps you’ll get the chance,” he whispered.

Before Will could ask him exactly what he meant by that, Hannibal kissed him again, deeper and longer this time.

“Enough of this subject,” Hannibal then murmured, pulling Will’s head back and kissing along his jaw.

Despite the pleasant distraction, Hannibal’s words made his mind wander to something else. Something that had a habit of popping up in his mind a lot lately. He couldn’t help but wonder who the Chesapeake Ripper’s next victim was going to be.

It was something he had thought about a lot in the past few days, and his stomach did the familiar twisting that came with thinking about it.

Will still thought about it as Hannibal put down both of their glasses and started to kiss along Will’s neck. Something stopped him from simply asking, though.

Maybe he was afraid.

Maybe he already knew the answer.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo, thank you for all your feedback, please enjoy! (woah i actually posted the next chapter a week later im as surprised as yall are)

**Chapter 26**

_He was standing far enough into the water that his toes got wet. In his ears was the rushing sound of the ocean, its waves rising and falling like the heaving breaths of an omnipotent, endless entity. Which, Will supposed, it was. The sand was pleasantly warm under his feet, a light breeze caressing his face. The sun was bright in his eyes, and he closed them._

_When he opened them again, it was night._

_The air had suddenly turned a lot colder, and he shivered slightly. The light breeze had turned into a biting wind. He stepped away from the water, which had suddenly become freezing cold._

_Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was._

_He turned away from the sea, finding it difficult to start walking for some reason. He slowly became aware of a looming presence above him, and, too late, he realised what felt so off._

_It was utterly quiet._

_He turned around slowly to see only darkness. It took a few seconds for him to realise that it wasn’t mere darkness engulfing his sight, it was the sea._

_An indescribably big wave was towering miles above him, seeming to move in slow motion as it grew and grew. It was ink-black, and Will’s nostrils suddenly filled with the overwhelming scent of rot._

_He saw things swimming around in the wave. They weren’t fish._

_It didn’t even occur to him to run. He knew, through and through, that it was too late. He was just going to have to let it happen. He had no other choice._

_Then the noise began._

_At first he thought it was the sound of the sea, the sound of the water growing and growing. But it steadily grew louder, and he realised it wasn’t water he was hearing._

_It was screaming._

_Blood-curling, haunting, endless screaming. No, not just that – wailing. The wailing of children._

_The rising of the wave came to a stop, and there were a few seconds where they faced each other, unmoving. Will couldn’t take his eyes off it, absolutely frozen to the spot._

_As it started to fall, Will finally realised what those things swimming around in the wave were._

_They were corpses. Corpses of all the children that had been murdered. The children he couldn’t save. They were grinning at him, none of them taking their eyes off him as the wave fell._

_He looked up again, and the wave was inches away from falling onto him, the screaming unbearably loud._

_Finally, it crashed down on him, and –_

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– he woke up in a cold sweat, lurching forward.

His frantic panting filled the room, and soon Hannibal was sitting up with him, a hand on his back. He was unable to utter a single word, and he let himself be guided onto Hannibal’s chest, his hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Will couldn’t hear the words Hannibal was saying, but they were soothing nonetheless. Slowly but surely Will started to calm down, his breathing slowing and his heartbeat reaching a normal pace.

His eyes slowly fell shut again, and he let himself be comforted back to sleep with gentle words and the steady heartbeat pressed against his ear.

Nevertheless, from the moment he woke up until the moment he fell asleep, he knew something was different.

There was something he had to do.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The next time he woke up, it was light outside. He could feel Hannibal’s arms around him, and he shifted a little. Hannibal pressed a kiss on his shoulder blade.

“Morning,” Will said roughly, putting a hand over Hannibal’s.

“Good morning,” Hannibal murmured.

“I slept in. You must have been awake for a while,” Will whispered, pulling Hannibal closer to him.

He felt Hannibal nod.

“Sorry. You should have just gotten up.”

“On the contrary, I wanted to make sure I was here when you woke up.”

Will closed his eyes again and took a breath. “Yeah,” he breathed.

Hannibal was quiet for a few seconds. “You had me worried for a while. You haven’t had a dream that bad in a long time,” he then said gently.

Will nodded, feeling rather miserable. “I know.”

Hannibal gave him another kiss on his shoulder. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Will took another breath, and told him everything he could remember. Hannibal listened, waiting patiently for Will to be done.

When he was, Hannibal was quiet for a long time.

“I could help you figure out what your subconscious is trying to tell you, but I think we both know the answer to that,” he finally said quietly.

Will nodded slowly, his heart sinking slightly at the confirmation. When he gave no further answer, Hannibal gently turned him so they were facing one another.

To Will’s surprise, Hannibal kissed him on the nose. He smiled despite himself.

“Aren’t you angry?” he asked quietly, taking Hannibal’s hand as it stroked his cheek.

Hannibal smiled. “My feelings about him have not changed. But, I’ll admit…” He took a while to finish the sentence. “I may have underestimated the effect he is having on you.”

Will frowned a little in confusion. “You’ve been in this for a while. You saw first-hand what effect he has on me.”

Hannibal nodded. “I did. And at first, I was trying to manipulate that to work in my favour. You, however, are not so easily manipulated.”

Will gave a brief smile, waiting for him to continue.

“At a certain point, I suppose I let my feelings toward him overcloud what you were experiencing. What you are still experiencing, and what I imagine is worse by the day. For that, I apologise.”

Will blinked, not saying anything for a couple of seconds. “Thanks,” he then said quietly.

Hannibal leaned in and kissed him. “I have some things to do today,” he then murmured.

“And tonight?” Will asked, already knowing the answer.

Hannibal nodded.

Will looked at him in silence for a while. “Whose body are we going to find tomorrow?” he then asked softly.

Hannibal ran a hand along Will’s cheek. “No one you’ll miss,” he said gently.

Will narrowed his eyes, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Yet?” he asked.

Hannibal paused, his face blank as he regarded Will. Then he smiled. “I’ll make us breakfast.”

Without another word, he got up, got dressed and left the room, leaving Will to stare at the ceiling with a feeling of foreboding in his chest.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“Will, you got a second? I need to talk to you.”

Will didn’t look up from the coffee machine. “Yeah, just a second.”

Jack waited impatiently as Will filled his cup. As soon as it was done, Jack turned and strode to his office, leaving Will to hastily follow him.

“Bad news, then?” he asked, catching up.

Jack held up a finger, signaling for him to wait. He closed the door, not giving Will time to sit down before he said, “Another one of the fathers has killed himself.”

Will paused, before steadily sitting down. “I see,” he said slowly.

Jack stood opposite his desk, leaning on it and gazing at Will. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Will took a careful sip of his coffee. “It’s not a coincidence.”

Jack nodded. “Exactly,” he said grimly.

“Whose father was it?”

“The father of one of the earlier victims. Hannah Thompson.”

The swings.

Will frowned, staring into the distance, thinking. “The fathers have something to do with this.”

Jack ran a hand over his head. “Yeah, but what? We know none of them is the killer. We interviewed all of them and they all had water-tight alibis.”

“I need to see everything we’ve been given by the killer,” Will said abruptly. “Including the CD we just got.”

Jack recovered quickly from his surprise, going to fetch everything. In the meantime Will had grabbed pictures from every single crime scene and lain them across the table.

They listened to the recording of Abigail Hobbs first. Will paused the first time the distorted audio sounded, rewinding and playing it again. He grabbed a pen and paper and started to write along with what she was saying, underlining a word multiple times.

They watched the video last, and Will paused it the moment it changed. “Jack,” he said calmly.

“What?” Jack said, sounding almost anxious.

Will slid him the paper, putting the CD with the recording back in.

_Why are you doing this? Please stop. It hurts._

_Please! You’re hurting me…  I want my mommy…. No, please, no, no…_

The words written on the paper were the words spoken by Abigail Hobbs on the recording.

Except Will had added a word every time the audio was distorted.

_Daddy… please stop. If we stop now I won’t tell mommy anything, I promise. I’ll be good… Daddy, please!_

Will snatched the paper back and kept writing.

_Daddy… I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m scared. I’m scared. It hurts I’m scared Daddy please it hurts it hurts I’m scared Daddy_

Will stopped, the pen falling from his hand.

He slowly looked up at Jack, who was staring at him with a mixture of horror and triumph.

“It fits, doesn’t it?” Will said dryly.

Jack nodded once. “It fucking does.”

“They’re the accomplice,” Will muttered.

“What?”

“I said they’re the accomplice we’ve been racking our brains about. Do you remember, a while ago, when Hannibal suggested the assault and the murder were done by two different people?”

“I remember.”

Will took a breath. “The fathers are sexually assaulting the children beforehand. Test the semen found on every child with their father’s. I think… no, I’m sure – the fathers are recording the assaults and posting them online. That’s how he finds them.”

“So the assaults and the murders are two separate events?”

“Yes. I’ve had this wrong from the beginning – the killer’s not murdering these children, he’s freeing them.”

“So why not kill the fathers?” Jack asked impatiently, barely being able to wait to get started.

“Because he’s afraid of them. Because they represent everything that destroyed him when he was a child. And because, even if he wants to free the children, a part of him loathes them. Loathes them just like he loathed himself for letting it happen to him.”

Jack nodded, having heard enough. “I’m going to drag their asses here. You – call the others.”

Without another word, Jack left.

Will took a breath, steeling himself before making the phone calls. Everyone was available besides Hannibal. The latter hadn’t picked up his phone.

He pushed that out of his mind, still reeling from the realisation of just now. He felt stupid for not thinking about it sooner. He felt disgusted, triumphant, furious. Above all, he felt tired. So fucking tired.

Before long, the others came bustling in, each of them nervously curious about the development. Will told them shortly what he had discovered.

Alana pursed her lips, turning visibly pale and looking away. Chilton’s eyes widened and he made a small, horrified sound.

“Where’s Dr. Lecter?” Alana then asked, her voice thin.

“He’s… not available. I assume he’s in the middle of work,” Will said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So all this time, the fathers have been abusing the children? How utterly horrid,” Chilton exclaimed, leaning over the table to look at the photographs.

Alana wordlessly picked up the piece of paper Will had been writing on before setting it back down with a slight tremble in her hands.

“There’s only one thing left to do now,” she said quietly, gazing at Will.

He nodded. “Finding him.”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

All of the parents had been brought in for questioning, and the tests were being run. Some of the fathers had already cracked, tearfully admitting to everything. Will had watched these confessions through the glass without a grain of sympathy. All he could feel towards them was disgust and hatred.

They had admitted to posting videos to a website, livestreaming, and going so far as to have ‘special events’ where a small group who paid good money could come and watch a ‘performance,’ as one of the fathers called it – live.

At one point, Will had had to walk out. He had made a beeline for the bathroom and thrown up his last meal – the breakfast Hannibal had made.

Eventually, he went and got another coffee, his hands shaking violently as he tried to take a sip. Jack joined him, having apparently taken a break with questioning. He put a hand on his shoulder briefly.

“How are you holding up?”

Will shrugged. “You?”

Jack gave him a look. “I’m enjoying this about as much as you are. But I’ve got to say – I’m glad we finally caught the fuckers.”

“One last fucker left to go,” Will said, not having enough energy to insert sarcasm into the words.

“Still no word from Hannibal?” Jack then asked.

Will shook his head. “He must be busy.”

Jack gave him an odd look before nodding. “All right. There’s nothing much you can do at the moment. Go home and get some shuteye.”

Will nodded, sighing. He paused mid-turn. “Jack?”

“Yeah.” Jack looked at him expectantly, anxious to be getting back.

“Just… be careful,” Will then said meekly.

Jack frowned in confusion. “Um… all right, Will. You too.”

Will watched Jack leave, his stomach in knots.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Will stepped into his dark house, feeling a small part of the general hideousness of the day subside as he was greeted enthusiastically by his dogs.

As he bent down to say hello, his phone buzzed. He picked up immediately, not looking at the name on his screen and automatically assuming it was Hannibal.

“Hey,” came Beverly’s voice instead.

Will swallowed the tiniest bit of disappointment, collapsing onto his couch. “Hey.”

They were both quiet for a long while, before Beverly broke the silence by chuckling bitterly. “Wanna drink about it?” she then asked.

Will’s eyes went to the bottles in his cupboard practically begging to be opened. “God, yes. Come over?”

Beverly exhaled. “Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

It was a long night of a lot of whiskey and moroseness. Neither of them were able to cheer the other up, nor were they trying to. Being miserable in each other’s company was comfort enough.

“We should be celebrating, you know,” Beverly eventually said, her words slightly slurred.

“I know. We caught these assholes. Finally,” Will muttered.

Beverly’s head came down onto Will’s shoulder. “But all of this is so fucking horrible,” she then whispered.

Will nodded, unable to speak. He took a gulp of whiskey instead.

“It was like we said. Even after solving this case, after we catch this bastard – it’s not going to feel like a victory. There’s no happy ending,” she continued softly.

“There’s no happy ending for anyone in our line of work,” Will muttered.

“I know. But fathers raping their own children, selling the videos for _money_ , and these children then being brutally murdered? That… that fucking crosses a line. Even in our line of work.”

“It does,” Will said, downing his whiskey and leaning his head on Beverly’s.

“At least they won’t be raping anymore children, I guess,” Beverly then muttered.

“And at least he won’t be killing any. Once we find him,” Will said.

Beverly sat up, running a hand through her hair. “It’s been a long day,” she whispered. “Too long.”

Will pulled her into a hug, and they sat there like that for a long time.

“Let’s get some rest,” he eventually said into her hair, his hand stroking her back.

She nodded, pulling away. “Yeah. I hope this couch is comfortable,” she then said with a half-smile.

Will grinned back. “I hope so too, since I’m the one sleeping on it. Take the bed.”

“I’m… not going to pretend I’m not going to do that. Thanks.”

“Good night, Bev.”

“Night.”

She stumbled into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Will lay down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling for a long time. When he finally managed to close his eyes, the birds had already started singing.


End file.
